"Three thousand five hundred--going at three thousand five hundred--
going--going--"
The sharp stroke of the hammer fell upon my ear. It drowned the final
word "gone!" but my heart pronounced that word in the emphasis of its
agony.
There was a noisy scene of confusion, loud words and high excitement
among the crowd of disappointed bidders. Who was the fortunate one?
I leant over to ascertain. The tall dark man was in conversation with
the auctioneer. Aurore stood beside him. I now remembered having seen
the man on the boat. He was the agent of whom D'Hauteville had spoken.
The Creole had guessed aright, and so, too, had Le Ber.
_Gayarre had outbid them all_!