, it is I who ought to ask your pardon; am I not a prisoner like
yourself? Ought I not to think of the service you have rendered me? You
have saved my life. Your hand, sir, I beg--I entreat--your hand!"

"Thanks; but it is useless now. The first feeling is everything. If you
had directly given me a grasp of the hand, it would have afforded me
pleasure, but, when I reflect, I would not desire it. Not because I am a
prisoner like you," he added, with a sombre and hesitating air,
"because, before I came here, I have been--"

"The turnkey told me all," said Germain, interrupting him; "but yet you
saved my life."

"I have done no more than my duty and pleasure, for I know who you
are--Monsieur Germain."

"You know me!"

"A little, my lad," said the Chourineur, resuming his usual tone of
habitual carelessness; "and, _pardieu!_ you would have been very wrong
to have attributed my arrival at La Force to chance. If I had not known
you, I should not have been in prison."

Germain looked at the Chourineur with amazement.

"What! It was because you knew me?"

"That I am here a prisoner in La Force."

"I, who owe you--"

"A candle to the Virgin, for having procured me the advantage of being
in La Force."

"Really," said Germain, passing his hand over his brow. "I do not know
whether the terrible shock I have just undergone has weakened my senses,
but it is impossible for me to understand you. The turnkey told me you
were here under a charge of--of--" said Germain, with hesitation.

"Robbery, _pardieu_! And robbery with forcible entry, and moreover at
night; nothing could be more complete!" cried the Chourineur, with a
hearty laugh.

Germain, painfully excited at the bold hardihood of the Chourineur,
could not forbear saying to him:

"What, you, so brave, so generous, and speak in this way! Are you not
aware of the terrible punishment to which you are exposed?"

"Twenty years at the galleys; I know that. I am an out-and-out
scoundrel, I know that, for taking it so easy. But what's the use when
one has been and done it? And then, for me to say that it was you, M.
Germain," added the Chourineur, heaving a tremendous sigh, and with an
air of assumed contrition, "who are the cause of my misfortune."

"When you explain yourself more clearly, I shall understand you. Just as
much as you please, but my gratitude for the service you have rendered
me will never cease or diminish," added Germain, sorrowfully.

"Oh, pardon