" He said it so drolly, though he was deadly ill,
that I laughed for half an hour at the stretch, wiping away my tears
as I did it; for his pale gray face looked so sorry, with its quaint
smile and that odd, dry voice of his.
As I sat there in my dungeon, with Gabord cocking his head and his
eyes rolling, that scene flashed on me, and I laughed freely--so
much so that Gabord sulkily puffed out his lips, and flamed like
bunting on a coast-guard's hut. The more he scowled and spluttered,
the more I laughed, till my wounded side hurt me and my arm had
twinges. But my mood changed suddenly, and I politely begged his
pardon, telling him frankly then and there what had made me laugh,
and how I had come to think of it. The flame passed out of his
cheeks, the revolving fire of his eyes dimmed, his lips broke into
a soundless laugh, and then, in his big voice, he said:
"You've got your knees to pray on yet, and crack my bones, but
you'll have need to con your penitentials if tattle in the town
be true."
"Before you tell of that," said I, "how is young Monsieur Duvarney?
Is--is he alive?" I added, as I saw his face look lower.
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