By the swinging beam of Fréhel I saw that his head was bowed. Without my noticing it the riding-lights in the little harbour below had disappeared; as no boat could now put in till dawn the pécheurs had waded across the shallows and extinguished them. The tall Crucifix seemed to advance and to retire again into the gloom with the next revolution of the Light. Then he raised his head and asked about the last question I expected. "About my money, George. You don't know exactly how much I've got?" "No, not at this moment." "Who bought the stuff?" "I sold it in the best market I could find." Ironically came his reply. "Hasn't it got a name? Are there two of us?... Anyway, without worrying you too much about it, I'd like an account soon. I want that matter cleared up." "Well, never mind furniture at present. That's a detail." "Oh no it isn't!" he answered quickly. "We seem to have different ideas as to what's detail. You've given me quite a lot of what I call detail. This is important.--You really don't remember the name of the man who bought that furniture of mine?" he mocked me. "I've already told you you can draw to any reasonable amount." "I see.... Is this it, that my furniture isn't sold at all, and you're advancing me money on the security of it?" "Security, Derry!" "And I still have my furniture and I owe you five hundred francs?" "Must we talk about this now?" There was no mistake about the granite this time. "Yes, we'd better," he said curtly. "We've wasted time enough about things that don't matter that"--he snapped his fingers. "I've listened to what you've got to say, and now I'm going to ask you to listen to me. I owe you five hundred francs, for which I'm most sincerely obliged. But I don't think I should have asked you if I'd known. And I want you to understand that it's all I do owe you." "Derry, old fellow----" "Tut-tut! One tale's always good till you hear the other side. It doesn't seem to strike you that you've made pretty free with me. I'm a subject for sums and mental arithmetic exercises--you're better at that than at accounts. I'm some kind of an oddity, that's got to be shoo-ed with an apron this way and that, and told where he's to go and not to go, and who he shall speak to and who he shan't. You'd be best pleased of all if you could shut your eyes and tell yourself that I didn't exist. But I do exist, and I'm not on sale for five hundred francs. I'm here on earth, and I don't see what you're going to do about it. I'm not less alive than anybody else; I'm more alive--a hundred times more alive. You can call me any age you please--but who'd be locked up, you or I, if you showed me to any reasonable being and told them I was forty-five? Care to try it on the Airds? I'll give you the chance if you like." Bitterly as he spoke, he grew bitterer as he proceeded.