passed through here, two years ago. You went from here to England, Just now I noticed a man on the top of the dune. A tall man. Tall men are rare; Brittany is a country of small men. I looked carefully. I had read the placard. I said wait! And when you came down, it was moonlight and I recognized you."
"But I do not know you."
"You have seen me, but you never looked at me."
And Tellmarch, the caimand, added,—
"I used to see you. A beggar does not look with the same eyes as the passers-by."
"Have I ever met you before?"
"Often, for I am your own beggar. I was the poor man at the foot of the road to your castle. You used to give me alms, sometimes; but the giver pays no attention, the receiver watches and observes. A beggar is a spy. But as for me, though often sad, I try not to be a malicious spy. I held out my hand, you saw the hand only, and you dropped in it the alms which I needed in the morning to keep me from dying of hunger at night. I have sometimes been twenty-four hours without eating. Sometimes, a sou saved my life. I owe life to you. I give it back to you."
"'Tis true, you are saving me."
"Yes, I am saving you, monseigneur."
And Tellmarch's voice grew serious.
"On one condition."
"What is that?"
"That you do not come here to work evil."
"I come here to do good," said the marquis.
"Let us go to sleep," said the beggar.
They lay down side by side on the bed of seaweed. The beggar fell asleep immediately. The marquis, although very tired, remained absorbed in thought for a time, then he looked at the poor man in the darkness, and lay down again. Lying on this pallet was like lying on the ground; he took advantage of it to put his ear to the earth and listen. There was a dull humming underground; sound is known to be propagated under the earth; he heard the noise of the bells.
The tocsin was still sounding.
The marquis fell asleep.
