The man waved him aside. His eyes had changed into red hot cinders again, and he seemed to have forgotten that June was there. "I ask help from nobody," he muttered fiercely, "I live my own life. The beggarly Japanese I would never accept from, and my own country does not see fit to help me." His chest heaved with wrath, and he twisted his mustache indignantly.
"Why don't you go home?" asked June.
Monsieur turned on him fiercely: "Go home? Mon Dieu, do you suppose there is a waking hour that I am not thinking, longing, praying to be back in France? Do you suppose I have left any stone unturned? Any plan unmade that might take me away from this hateful place? It has been fourteen, fifteen years since I came away. It was a Japanese that had me dismissed from the service; he bore tales to the minister, he told what was not true. Oh, then I had honor, I was too proud to explain, but now!" he lifted a pair of crippled hands to Heaven, and shook them violently at the trees above, "now I know that honor does not pay, it is not worth while. I will give anything to get back to France!"
June sat still and watched him. He had never seen anyone behave so queerly, and he was very much mixed up as to what it was all about.
"I guess I have to go now," he said, "Toro's waiting."
Monsieur's eyes flashed suspiciously. "Who's waiting?" he asked.
"Toro, he is Seki's brother, he knows how to build awful nice houses and blockades too."
"Blockades?" repeated Monsieur, "what kind of blockades?"
"Like the soldiers make, we watch them all the time; come on, I will show you."
The two made their way down the steps slowly, for Monsieur could go only a little way at a time. Toro looked mildly surprised when June came back with a companion, but he did not give a second glance at Monsieur, who was evidently a familiar figure about the town.