"What he said? Let me see, what did he say? I don't remember; oh! yes, he told me that I had imagined all that--what we have been talking about. Yes, that was it, my dear fellow; I have, it seems, a vivid imagination, and your wife will never wrong you in the world! Never, as surely as we are standing here!" Costantino looked at him eagerly. No, the man was not chaffing; he was perfectly serious, and evidently meant what he said. "Ah, ha! he scolded you, did he? Good enough!" he cried. "This wall," said the _King of Spades_, straightening himself, and regarding his hands, which were red and scarred from contact with the rough stones, "this wall looks as though it were made of chocolate; it is warm and damp. Ah! if it only were, there would be two advantages: we could eat it, and then escape! Have you ever eaten any chocolate?" "Why, of course, and Giovanna too; she is very fond of it, but it is fearfully dear. Well, and what then?" "What then?" exclaimed the other impatiently. "My dear fellow, you drive me crazy. Oh! she will wait for you twenty-three years--never fear!" "No, not that long; I shall be out of here long before that," replied Costantino confidently. "Then too," he added with a gleam of humour, "there is the pardon; you were to see the King, you know, about a pardon for me." "Precisely," said the other. "I was to see the King. You don't believe me? I shall, however, go to him at once; he receives every official, and what am I if not an official? He is fond of the army; he is young; I hear he is getting fat. Ah! not as fat as I, though"--and he laughed. From then on, whenever Costantino tried to bring the conversation around to the old subject, the other contrived to head him off; but at all events he was no longer tormented. One day about this time, Costantino was informed that five francs had been paid in to his account. "He did it!" he exclaimed. "I am sure it was the priest. What a kind man he is! But I don't need it; no, indeed, I don't need the money at all." "You stupid," said the _King of Spades_. "Take it; if you don't he will be offended. 'I don't want it!' A pretty way that to acknowledge a present!" "But I should be ashamed to take it. And what could I do with it, anyhow?" "Why, eat, drink--you have need to, I can assure you. You would like to send it home, I suppose? The devil take you! If you do such an idiotic thing as that I will spit in your face! Why, see here, she doesn't even write to you any more; she----" "What is there for her to write about?" said Costantino, trying vainly to think of some excuse. "Besides," he added, "she will be working now, the winter is nearly over." "Yes, it is nearly over, and then the spring will come," said the other in a tone that had almost a menace in it. "It will come." "Why, of course, it will come!" "When does the warm weather begin with you? We have it in March."