Day was just breaking, pale and cool; the sailors disappeared one by one.  The doctor was getting ready to lie down on a bed which he had ordered to be put up in a room adjoining that in which the wounded man was lying, when an officer came in.  It was one of those who had been standing near Champcey; he, also, was a lieutenant.

“I should like to have a word in private with you, doctor,” he said.

“Very well,” replied the old surgeon.  “Be kind enough to come up to my room.”  And when they were alone, he locked the door, and said,—­

“I am listening.”

The lieutenant thought a moment, like a man who looks for the best form in which to present an important idea, and then said,—­

“Between us, doctor, do you believe it was an accident, or a crime?”

The surgeon hesitated visibly.

“I will tell you, but you only, frankly, that I do not believe it was an accident.  But as we have no evidence”—­

“Pardon me!  I think I have evidence.”

“Oh!”

“You shall, judge yourself.  When Daniel fell, he said, ’This time, they have not missed me!’”

“Did he say so?”

“Word for word.  And Saint Edme, who was farther from him than I was, heard it as distinctly as I did.”

To the great surprise of the lieutenant, the chief surgeon seemed only moderately surprised; his eyes, on the contrary, shone with that pleased air of a man who congratulates himself at having foreseen exactly what he now is told was the fact.  He drew a chair up to the fireplace, in which a huge fire had been kindled to dry his clothes, sat down, and said,—­

“Do you know, my dear lieutenant, that what you tell me is a matter of the greatest importance?  What may we not conclude from those words, ‘This time they have not missed me’?  In the first place, it proves that Champcey was fully aware that his life was in danger.  Secondly, that plural, ‘They have not,’ shows that he knew he was watched and threatened by several people:  hence the scamp whom we caught must have accomplices.  In the third place, those words, ‘This time,’ establish the fact that his life has been attempted before.”

“That is just what I thought, doctor.”

The worthy old gentleman looked very grave and solemn, meditating deeply.

“Well, I,” he continued slowly, “I had a very clear presentiment of all that as soon as I looked at the murderer.  Do you remember the man’s amazing impudence as long as he thought he could not be convicted of the crime?  And then, when he found that the calibre of his gun betrayed him, how abject, how painfully humble, he became!  Evidently such a man is capable of anything.”

“Oh! you need only look at him”—­

“Yes, indeed!  Well, as I was thus watching him, I instinctively recalled the two remarkable accidents which so nearly killed our poor Champcey,—­that block that fell upon him from the skies, and that shipwreck in the Dong-Nai.  But I was still doubtful.  After what you tell me, I am sure.”