I turned to leave.
But the prisoner stepped between me and the door. "You were sent here
with a message," he said; "I am listening."
His sunken brown eyes were so deep in melancholy that I could not hold
my wrath. "Was it a gentleman's part to lead me on to play the clown?"
I asked. "I came in kindness."
He smiled a little,--a bitter smile that did not reach his eyes. "I am
not, like you, a gentleman by birth, monsieur," he said slowly, "and so
often trip in my behavior. Granted that you were amusing,--and you
were, monsieur,--can you blame me for using you for a diversion? I
infer that you have come to tell me that the time left me, either for
amusement or penitence, is short."
It was bravely said, but I knew from the careful repression of his tone
that his hardness was a brittle veneer. He was young to carry so bold
a front when his heart must be hammering, and I would willingly have
talked any doggerel to have afforded him another smile.
"I know nothing of your future," I hastened, "save that, arguing from
your youth, it will probably be a long one. It was your past that I
was sent to ask concerning. The commandant sent me. Since you speak
French, my mission is over.
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