“The captain of the Jean Guiton knew all about the affair, having been summoned with his boat to assist in the attempts at salvage.

“He told me the story of the disaster.  The Marie Joseph, driven by a furious gale lost her bearings completely in the night, and steering by chance over a heavy foaming sea—­’a milk-soup sea,’ said the captain—­had gone ashore on those immense sand banks which make the coasts of this country look like limitless Saharas when the tide is low.

“While talking I looked around and ahead.  Between the ocean and the lowering sky lay an open space where the eye could see into the distance.  We were following a coast.  I asked: 

“‘Is that the island of Re?’

“‘Yes, sir.’

“And suddenly the captain stretched his right hand out before us, pointed to something almost imperceptible in the open sea, and said: 

“‘There’s your ship!’

“‘The Marie Joseph!’

“‘Yes.’

“I was amazed.  This black, almost imperceptible speck, which looked to me like a rock, seemed at least three miles from land.

“I continued: 

“‘But, captain, there must be a hundred fathoms of water in that place.’

“He began to laugh.

“‘A hundred fathoms, my child!  Well, I should say about two!’

“He was from Bordeaux.  He continued: 

“’It’s now nine-forty, just high tide.  Go down along the beach with your hands in your pockets after you’ve had lunch at the Hotel du Dauphin, and I’ll wager that at ten minutes to three, or three o’clock, you’ll reach the wreck without wetting your feet, and have from an hour and three-quarters to two hours aboard of her; but not more, or you’ll be caught.  The faster the sea goes out the faster it comes back.  This coast is as flat as a turtle!  But start away at ten minutes to five, as I tell you, and at half-past seven you will be again aboard of the Jean Guiton, which will put you down this same evening on the quay at La Rochelle.’

“I thanked the captain and I went and sat down in the bow of the steamer to get a good look at the little city of Saint-Martin, which we were now rapidly approaching.

“It was just like all small seaports which serve as capitals of the barren islands scattered along the coast—­a large fishing village, one foot on sea and one on shore, subsisting on fish and wild fowl, vegetables and shell-fish, radishes and mussels.  The island is very low and little cultivated, yet it seems to be thickly populated.  However, I did not penetrate into the interior.

“After breakfast I climbed across a little promontory, and then, as the tide was rapidly falling, I started out across the sands toward a kind of black rock which I could just perceive above the surface of the water, out a considerable distance.