e you and me, Mademoiselle,
shifting with the sun now and then, for you must know a prisoner loves
the sun above all; and there, we only had it a few hours in the day,
even when it did shine. I was carving some stick-heads, and
bread-plates in wood--the only thing I could do to put a little more
than bread, into our own platters," with a grin, "and whistling,
whistling, for if you can't be gay, it is best to play at it.... Well,
that day into our courtyard there was shown a tall man--and I knew him
at once, though he was different enough in his fine coat, and hat and
boots, from the time when I had last seen him, when he was like me, in
rags and with a woollen cap on his head, and no stockings under his
shoes--I knew him at once! And when I saw him I stood still, with my
mouth round, but not whistling more. My blood went phizz, phizz, all
over my body, and suddenly something said in my head: 'Rene, he has
come to look for you.' He was searching for some one, for he went
round with the guardian looking into each man's face, and giving money
to all who begged--and seeing that, they all got up, and surrounded
him, and he gave them each a piece. But I could not get up; it was as
if some one had cut out my knees and my elbows. And that was how he
saw me the sooner. He noticed I remained there, looking at him like a
dog, saying nothing. When he saw me, he stood a moment quite quiet;
and without pretending anything he came to me and looked down
smiling.--'But if I am not mistaken I know this man,' he said to the
guardian, pretending to be astonished. 'Why, this is Rene L'Apotre?
Who would have thought of seeing you here, Rene L'Apotre?' says he.
And then he smiled again, as much as to say, 'You see I have come at
last, Rene.' And once more, as if to explain: 'I have only lately come
back to England,' in a gentle way, all full of meaning.... I don't
know what took me, but I cried like an infant, in my cap. And the
guardian and some of the others laughed, but when I looked up again,
his eyes shone also. He looked so good, so kind, Mademoiselle, that it
was as if I understood in words all he meant, but thought better not
to say at the time. Then he spoke to the guardian, who shook his head
doubtfully. And after saying, 'Have good courage, Rene L'Apotre,' and
giving me the rest of his money, he went away--but I knew I was not
forgotten, and I was so happy that the black, black walls were no more
black. And I sang, not for pretence