Mazzani brothers--the best, M. Dubosc, was murdered the day
before yesterday by Rolleston. I loved Badiarinos as a son loves his
father. I have sworn to avenge him. There you have it."

"Lynx-Eye, grandson of Long Carbine," said Simon, "we will avenge your
friend, but Rolleston is not guilty of his murder. . . ."

For a man like Simon, to whom practical navigation, in the air or on
the sea, had given a keen sense of direction and who, moreover, kept
on consulting his compass, it was child's play to reach a spot whose
latitude and longitude he was able to determine more or less exactly.
He galloped due south, after making the calculation that, if nothing
forced them to turn aside, they would have to cover a distance of
about thirty miles.

Almost immediately, the little troop, leaving on their left the line
of ridges which Simon had followed a few days before, struck off
across a series of rather lower sand-hills, which nevertheless were
high enough to overlook immense beds of yellow mud, covered with a
network of small, winding streams. This was the slime deposited by the
rivers of the coast and carried out to sea by the tides and currents.

"Grand alluvial soil," said Old Sandstone. "The water will form
channels for itself. The sandy parts will be absorbed."

"In five years," said Simon, "we shall see herds of cattle grazing on
the very bed of the sea; and five years later there will be
railway-lines across it and palatial hotels standing in the middle."

"Perhaps; but, for the moment the situation is not promising,"
observed the old professor. "Look here, look at this newspaper,
published yesterday evening. In both France and England the disorder
is complete. Social and economic life has been suddenly paralyzed. No
more public services. Letters and telegrams may or may not be
delivered. Nothing definite is known; and people are saying the most
extraordinary things. The cases of insanity and suicide, it seems, are
numberless. And the crimes! Isolated crimes, crimes committed by gangs
of criminals, riots, shops and churches pillaged wholesale. It's an
absolute chaos; we are back in the dark ages."

The stratum of mud, formerly swept by the ground-wash, was not very
thick; and they were able, time after time, to venture upon it without
the least danger. For that matter, it was already indented with
footprints, which also marked the still moist sand of the hills. They
passed the hulk of a steamboat round which some