Jean Francois seized him forcibly by the neck, as if to embrace him; he
put his mouth close to Savinien's ear, and said to him in a low,
supplicating voice,
"Keep quiet."
Then turning towards the others:
"Leave me alone with him. I tell you I won't go away. Lock us in if you
wish, but leave us alone."
With a commanding gesture he showed them the door. They went out.
[Illustration]
Savinien, broken by grief, was sitting on the bed, and lowered his eyes
without understanding anything.
"Listen," said Jean Francois, who came and took him by the hands. "I
understand! You have stolen three gold pieces to buy some trifle for a
girl. That costs six months in prison. But one only comes out from there
to go back again, and you will become a pillar of police courts and
tribunals. I understand it. I have been seven years at the Reform
School, a year at Sainte Pelagie, three years at Poissy, five years at
Toulon. Now, don't be afraid. Everything is arranged. I have taken it on
my shoulders."
"It is dreadful," said Savinien; but hope was springing up again in his
cowardly heart.
"When the elder brother is under the flag, the younger one does not go,"
replied Jean Francois. "I am your substitute, that's all. You care for
me a little, do you not? I am paid. Don't be childish--don't refuse.
They would have taken me again one of these days, for I am a runaway
from exile. And then, do you see, that life will be less hard for me
than for you. I know it all, and I shall not complain if I have not done
you this service for nothing, and if you swear to me that you will never
do it again. Savinien, I have loved you well, and your friendship has
made me happy. It is through it that, since I have known you, I have
been honest and pure, as I might always have been, perhaps, if I had
had, like you, a father to put a tool in my hands, a mother to teach me
my prayers. It was my sole regret that I was useless to you, and that I
deceived you concerning myself. To-day I have unmasked in saving you. It
is all right. Do not cry, and embrace me, for already I hear heavy boots
on the stairs. They are coming with the _posse_, and we must not seem to
know each other so well before those chaps."
He pressed Savinien quickly to his breast, then pushed him from him,
when the door was thrown wide open.
It was the landlord and the Auvergnat, who brought the police. Jean
Francois sprang forward to the landing-place, held out his hands for
the handcuffs, and said, laughing, "Forward, bad lot!"
To-day he is at Cayenne, condemned for life as an incorrigible.
[Illustration]
AT TABLE.
[Illustration: AT TABLE]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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