e day I will tell you something--not
now--in a year's time. _Vous etes le seul--!_' What did he mean by that,
if he had no heart to eat?... The night after he had gone, a little
black dog strayed up, and among the trees barked and barked at some
portent or phantom. 'Ah! the camel! Ah! the pig! I had him on my back
all night!' Grandpere Poirot said next morning. That was the very last
of Flotsam....

And now to Jetsam! It was on the day but one after Roche left that Gray
was reported missing. For some time past he had been getting stronger,
clearer in speech. They began to say of him: 'It's wonderful--the
improvement since he came--wonderful!' His salvation also seemed in
sight. But from the words 'He's rather a dear!' all recoiled, for as he
grew stronger he became more stubborn and more irritable--'cunning
egoist' that he was! According to the men, he was beginning to show
himself in his true colours. He had threatened to knife any one who
played a joke on him--the arrogant civilian! On the day that he was
missing it appears that after the midday meal he had asked for a '_cafe
natur_' and for some reason had been refused. Before his absence was
noted it was night already, clear and dark; all day something as of
Spring had stirred in the air. The Corporal and a 'Power' set forth down
the wooded hill into the town, to scour the _cafes_ and hang over the
swift, shallow river, to see if by any chance Gray had been overtaken by
another paralytic stroke and was down there on the dark sand. The sleepy
gendarmes too were warned and given his description. But the only news
next morning was that he had been seen walking on the main road up the
valley. Two days later he was found, twenty miles away, wandering
towards Italy. '_Perdu_' was his only explanation, but it was not
believed, for now began that continual demand: '_Je voudrais aller a
Lyon, voir mon oncle--travailler!_' As the big cavalryman put it: 'He is
bored here!' It was considered unreasonable, by soldiers who found
themselves better off than in other hospitals; even the 'Powers'
considered it ungrateful, almost. See what he had been like when he
came--a mere trembling bag of bones, only too fearful of being sent
away. And yet, who would not be bored, crouching all day long about the
stoves, staunching his poor dribbling mouth, rolling his inevitable
cigarette, or wandering down, lonely, to hang over the bridge parapet,
having thoughts in his head and for ever unable