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“
That
is
,
if
he
’
s
still
alive
,
”
remarked
the
tall
detective
gloomily
.
Japp
’
s
face
fell
.
“
Yes
.
.
.
.
But
somehow
I
’
ve
got
the
feeling
he
’
s
alive
all
right
.
”
Poirot
nodded
.
“
Yes
,
yes
;
he
’
s
alive
.
But
can
he
be
found
in
time
?
I
,
like
you
,
did
not
believe
he
could
be
hidden
so
long
.
”
The
whistle
blew
,
and
we
all
trooped
up
into
the
Pullman
car
.
Then
,
with
a
slow
,
unwilling
jerk
,
the
train
drew
out
of
the
station
.
It
was
a
curious
journey
.
The
Scotland
Yard
men
crowded
together
.
Maps
of
Northern
France
were
spread
out
,
and
eager
forefingers
traced
the
lines
of
roads
and
villages
.
Each
man
had
his
own
pet
theory
.
Poirot
showed
none
of
his
usual
loquacity
,
but
sat
staring
in
front
of
him
,
with
an
expression
on
his
face
that
reminded
me
of
a
puzzled
child
.
I
talked
to
Norman
,
whom
I
found
quite
an
amusing
fellow
.
On
arriving
at
Dover
Poirot
’
s
behaviour
moved
me
to
intense
amusement
.
The
little
man
,
as
he
went
on
board
the
boat
,
clutched
desperately
at
my
arm
.
The
wind
was
blowing
lustily
.
“
Mon
Dieu
!
”
he
murmured
.
“
This
is
terrible
!
”
“
Have
courage
,
Poirot
,
”
I
cried
.
“
You
will
succeed
.
You
will
find
him
.
I
am
sure
of
it
.
”
“
Ah
,
mon
ami
,
you
mistake
my
emotion
.
It
is
this
villainous
sea
that
troubles
me
!
The
mal
de
mer
—
it
is
horrible
suffering
!
”
“
Oh
!
”
I
said
,
rather
taken
aback
.
