“Oh, I will take them by force.”
“Good; and when you have got them, knock on the wall.”
“And if I cannot get them?”
“Knock also.”
“Then, in any case I am to knock?”
“Yes.”
Gorenflot went, and Chicot placed his ear to the hole in the wall. When Gorenflot entered, the sick man raised himself in his bed, and looked at him with wonder.
“Good day, brother,” said Gorenflot.
“What do you want, my father?” murmured the sick man, in a feeble voice.
“My son, I hear you are in danger, and I come to speak to you of your soul.”