"But will you not permit yourself to be touched by the misery of a man
who is young, intelligent, courageous, who will drown if a hand is not
held out to help him? For you, the assistance that I ask so earnestly is
nothing--"

"Three thousand francs! Nothing! Bless me! How you talk!"

"For me, if you refuse me, it is death."

Saniel began to speak with his eyes fixed on the hands of his watch, but
presently, carried away by the fever of the situation, he raised them to
look at Caffie, and to see the effect that he produced on him. In this
movement he made a discovery that destroyed all his calculations.

Caffie's office was a small room with a high window looking into the
court; never having been in this office except in the evening, he had
not observed that this window had neither shutters nor curtains of
muslin or of heavier stuff; there was nothing but the glass. To tell the
truth, two heavy curtains of woollen damask hung on either side of
the window, but they were not drawn. Talking to Caffie, who was placed
between him and this window, Saniel suddenly perceived that on the other
side of the court, in the second wing of the building, on the second
story, were two lighted windows directly opposite to the office, and
that from there any one could see everything that occurred in the
office.

How should he execute his plan under the eyes of these people whom he
saw coming and going in this room? He would be lost. In any case, it was
risking an adventure so hazardous that he would be a fool to attempt it,
and he was not that; never had he felt himself so much the master of his
mind and nerves.

Also, it was not only to save Caffie's life that he argued, it was to
save himself in grasping this loan.

"I can only, to my great regret, repeat to you what I have already said,
my dear sir. I have no ready money."

And he held his jaw, groaning, as if this refusal aroused his toothache.

Saniel rose; evidently there was nothing for him to do but to go. It was
finished, and instead of being in despair he felt it as a relief.

But, as he was about to leave the room, an idea flashed through his
mind.

He looked at his watch, which he had not consulted for some time; it was
twenty minutes after five; there yet remained four minutes, five at the
most.

"Why do you not draw these curtains?" he said. "I am sure your
sufferings are partly caused by the wind that comes in this window."

"Do you think so?"

"I am sure