The pretty wren perches now in the Governor's
house--a-cousining, a-cousining. Think you it is that she may get
a glimpse of m'sieu' the dormouse as he comes to trial? But 'tis
no business o' mine; and if I bring my prisoner up when called
for, there's duty done!"
I saw the friendly spirit in the words.
"Voban," urged I, "Voban may come to me?"
"The Intendant said no, but the Governor yes," was the reply;
"and that M'sieu' Doltaire is not yet come back from Montreal,
so he had no voice. They look for him here to-morrow."
"Voban may come?" I asked again.
"At daybreak Voban--aho!" he continued. "There's milk and honey
to-morrow," he added, and then, without a word, he drew forth from
his coat, and hurriedly thrust into my hands, a piece of meat and a
small flask of wine, and, swinging round like a schoolboy afraid of
being caught in a misdemeanor, he passed through the door and the
bolts clanged after him. He left the torch behind him, stuck in the
cleft of the wall.
I sat down on my couch, and for a moment gazed almost vacantly
at the meat and wine in my hands. I had not touched either for a
year, and now I could see that my fingers, as they closed on the
food nervously, were thin and bloodless, and I realized that my
clothes hung loose upon my person. Here were light, meat, and wine,
and there was a piece of bread on the board covering my water-jar.
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