But the Slasher had perceived it; a gloom
spread over his face, and drawing back in his turn, he said, with much
bitterness, "Ah! it is right. Pardon me, sir."
"No, it is I who should ask your pardon. Am I not a prisoner like you? I
should only think of the service you have rendered me--you have saved my
life. Your hand, friend, I entreat you. I pray you, your hand."
"Thank you; now it is useless. The first movement is everything. If you had
at first given me your hand, that would have given me pleasure; but, on
reflection, it is I who do not wish it. Not because I am a prisoner, like
you, but," he added, in a hesitating and gloomy manner, "because, before I
was here, I was--"
"The keeper has told me all," replied Germain, interrupting him; "but you
have none the less saved my life."
"I have done but my duty and pleasure, for I know who you are, M. Germain."
"You know me?"
"A little, my boy; I talk to you like a father," said the Slasher, resuming
his tone of habitual carelessness; "and you would be very wrong to place my
arrival at La Force on the back of chance. If I had not known you, I should
not have been here."
Germain looked at the Slasher with the utmost surprise.
"How, because you knew me---"
"I am here a prisoner in La Force."
"I wish to believe you, but---"
"But you do not believe me."
"I wish to say that it is impossible for me to comprehend how it can be
that I have anything to do with your imprisonment.
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