"So you have been asked to
intercede with me on behalf of some young scapegrace. Well, who is it? I'll look into the matter to-morrow morning. I really cannot think of
anything to-day but of this terrible business----"

"----Admiral, it concerns this business." "The loss of the _Neptune_? In what way can the honour of a naval family
be possibly involved in such a matter?" There was a touch of hauteur as
well as of indignant surprise in the fine old seaman's voice. "Admiral," said Jacques de Wissant deliberately, "there was--there is--a
woman on board the _Neptune_." "A woman in the _Neptune_? That is quite impossible!" The Admiral got up
from his chair. "It is one of our strictest regulations that no stranger
be taken on board a submarine without a special permit from the Minister
of Marine, countersigned by an admiral. No such permit has been issued
for many months. In no case would a woman be allowed on board. Commander
Dupré is far too conscientious, too loyal, an officer to break such a
regulation." "Commander Dupré," said Jacques de Wissant in a low, bitter tone, "was
not too conscientious or too loyal an officer to break that regulation,
for there is, I repeat it, a woman in the _Neptune_." The Admiral sat down again. "But this is serious--very serious," he
muttered. He was thinking of the effect, not only at home but abroad, of such a
breach of discipline. He shook his head with a pained, angry gesture--"I understand what
happened," he said at last. "The woman was of course poor Dupré's"--and
then something in Jacques de Wissant's pallid face made him substitute,
for the plain word he meant to have used, a softer, kindlier
phrase--"poor Dupré's _bonne amie_," he said. "I am advised not," said Jacques de Wissant shortly. "I am told that the
person in question is a young lady." "Do you mean an unmarried girl?" asked the Admiral. There was great
curiosity and sincere relief in his voice. "I beg of you not to ask me, Admiral! The family of the lady have
implored me to reveal as little of the truth as possible. They have
taken their own measures, and they are good measures, to account for
her--her disappearance." The unhappy man spoke with considerable
agitation. "Quite so! Quite so! They are right. I have no wish to show indiscreet
curiosity." "Do you think anything can be done to prevent the fact becoming known?" asked Jacques de Wissant--and, as the other waited a moment before
answering, the suspense became almost more than he could endure. He got up and instinctively stood with his back to the light. "The
family of this young lady are willing to make any pecuniary
sacrifice----"

"It is not a question of pecuniary sacrifice," the Admiral said stiffly. "Money will never really purchase either secrecy or silence. But honour,
M. de Wissant, will sometimes, nay, often, do both." "Then you think the fact can be concealed?" "I think it will be impossible to conceal it if the _Neptune_ is
raised"--he hesitated, and his voice sank as he added the poignant words
"_in time_. But if that happens, though I fear that it is not likely to
happen, then I promise you that I will allow it to be thought that I had
given this lady permission, and her improper action will be accepted for
what it no doubt was--a foolish escapade. If Dupré and little Paritot
are the men of honour I take them to be, one or other of them will of
course marry her!" "And if the _Neptune_ is not raised--" the Mayor's voice also dropped
to a whisper--"_in time_--what then?" "Then," said the Admiral, "everything will be done by me--so you can
assure your unlucky friends--to conceal the fact that Commander Dupré
failed in his duty. Not for his sake, you understand--he, I fear,
deserves what he has suffered, what he is perhaps still suffering,"--a
look of horror stole over his old, weather-roughened face--"but for the
sake of the foolish girl and for the sake of her family. You say it is a
naval family?" "Yes," said Jacques de Wissant. "A noted naval family." The Admiral got up. "And now I, on my side, must exact of you a pledge,
M. de Wissant--" he looked searchingly at the Government official
standing before him. "I solemnly implore you, monsieur, to keep this
fact you have told me absolutely secret for the time being--secret even
from the Minister of Marine." The Mayor of Falaise bent his head. "I intend to act," he said slowly,
"as if I had never heard it." "I ask it for the honour, the repute, of the Service," muttered the old
officer. "After all, M. de Wissant, the poor fellow did not mean much
harm. We sailors have all, at different times of our lives, had some
_bonne amie_ whom we found it devilish hard to leave on shore!" The Admiral walked slowly towards the door. To-day had aged him years. Then he turned and looked benignantly at Jacques de Wissant; the man
before him might be stiff, cold, awkward in manner, but he was a
gentleman, a man of honour. And as he drove to the station to meet the Minister of Marine, Admiral
de Saint Vilquier's shrewd, practical mind began to deal with the
difficult problem which was now added to his other cares. It was
simplified in view of the fact--the awful fact--that according to his
private information it was most unlikely that the submarine would be
raised within the next few hours. He hoped with all his heart that the
twelve men and the woman now lying beneath the sea had met death at the
moment of the collision. *       *       *       *       *

All that summer night the cafés and eating-houses of Falaise remained
open, and there was a constant coming and going to the beach, where many
people, even among those visitors who were not directly interested in
the calamity, camped out on the stones. The mayor sent word to the Pavillon de Wissant that he would sleep in
his town house, but though he left the town hall at two in the morning
he was back at his post by eight, and he spent there the whole of the
next long dragging day. Fortunately for him there was little time for thought. In addition to
the messages of inquiry and condolence which went on pouring in,
important members of the Government arrived from Paris and the
provinces. There also came to Falaise the mother of Commander Dupré, and the father
and brother of Lieutenant Paritot. De Wissant made the latter his
special care. They, the two men, were granted the relief of tears, but
Madame Dupré's silent agony could not be assuaged. Once, when he suddenly came upon her sitting, her chin in her hand, in
his room at the town hall, Jacques de Wissant shrank from her blazing
eyes and ravaged face, so vividly did they recall to him the eyes, the
face, he had seen that April evening "'twixt dog and wolf," when he had
first leapt upon the truth. On the third day all hope that there could be anyone still living in the
_Neptune_ was being abandoned, and yet at noon there ran a rumour
through the town that knocking had been heard in the submarine....