few days later Veronique went to walk with the rector through the part
of the forest that was nearest the chateau, wishing to descend with him
the terraced slopes she had seen from the house of Farrabesche. In
doing this she obtained complete certainty as to the nature of the upper
affluents of the Gabou. The rector saw for himself that the streams
which watered certain parts of upper Montegnac came from the mountains
of the Correze. This chain of hills joined the barren slopes we have
already described, parallel with the chain of the Roche-Vive.

On returning from this walk the rector was joyful as a child; he
foresaw, with the naivete of a poet, the prosperity of his dear
village--for a poet is a man, is he not? who realizes hopes before they
ripen. Monsieur Bonnet garnered his hay as he stood overlooking that
barren plain from Madame Graslin's upper terrace.

XV. STORY OF A GALLEY-SLAVE

The next day Farrabesche and his son came to the chateau with game. The
keeper also brought, for Francis, a cocoanut cup, elaborately carved, a
genuine work of art, representing a battle. Madame Graslin was walking
at the time on the terrace, in the direction which overlooked Les
Tascherons. She sat down on a bench, took the cup in her hand and looked
earnestly at the deft piece of work. A few tears came into her eyes.

"You must have suffered very much," she said to Farrabesche, after a few
moments' silence.

"How could I help it, madame?" he replied; "for I was there without the
hope of escape, which supports the life of most convicts."

"An awful life!" she said in a tone of horror, inviting Farrabesche by
word and gesture to say more.

Farrabesche took the convulsive trembling and other signs of emotion
he saw in Madame Graslin for the powerful interest of compassionate
curiosity in himself.

Just then Madame Sauviat appeared, coming down a path as if she meant to
join them; but Veronique drew out her handkerchief and made a negative
sign; saying, with an asperity she had never before shown to the old
woman:--

"Leave me, leave me, mother."

"Madame," said Farrabesche, "for ten years I wore there (holding out
his leg) a chain fastened to a great iron ring which bound me to another
man. During my time I had to live thus with three different convicts.
I slept on a wooden bench; I had to work extraordinarily hard to earn
a little mattress called a _serpentin_. Each dormitory contains eight
hundred men. Each bed, c