ok up his pencil, and wrote
hastily, "_I am not alone--I have a friend._"

Henceforward the oyster-shell took a long time to fill, and patience
seemed a harder virtue than ever. Perhaps the last fact had something to
do with the rapid decline of Monsieur the Viscount's health. He became
paler and weaker, and more fretful. His prayers were accompanied by
greater mental struggles, and watered with more tears. He was, however,
most positive in his assurances to Monsieur Crapaud that he knew the
exact nature and cause of the malady that was consuming him. It
resulted, he said, from the noxious and unwholesome condition of his
cell; and he would entreat Antoine to have it swept out. After some
difficulty the gaoler consented.

It was nearly a month since Monsieur the Viscount had first been
startled by the appearance of the little pincushion. The stock of paper
had long been exhausted. He had torn up his cambric ruffles to write
upon, and Mademoiselle de St. Claire had made havoc of her
pocket-handkerchiefs for the same purpose. The Viscount was feebler than
ever, and Antoine became alarmed. The cell should be swept out the next
morning. He would come himself, he said, and bring another man out of
the town with him to help him, for the work was heavy, and he had a
touch of rheumatism. The man was a stupid fellow from the country, who
had only been a week in Paris; he had never heard of the Viscount, and
Antoine would tell him that the prisoner was a certain young lawyer who
had really died of fever in prison the day before. Monsieur the Viscount
thanked him; and it was not till the next morning arrived, and he was
expecting them every moment, that Monsieur the Viscount remembered the
toad, and that he would without doubt be swept away with the rest in
the general clearance. At first he thought that he would beg them to
leave it, but some knowledge of the petty insults which that class of
men heaped upon their prisoners made him feel that this would probably
be only an additional reason for their taking the animal away. There was
no place to hide it in, for they would go all round the room;
unless--unless Monsieur the Viscount took it up in his hand. And this
was just what he objected to do. All his old feelings of repugnance came
back, he had not even got gloves on; his long white hands were bare, he
could not touch a toad. It was true that the beast had amused him, and
that he had chatted to it; but after all, this was a p