"Never!" exclaimed the Nut. "You are the only man here who has been decent to me. You have always stood up for me."
"Stood up for you! You don't need anyone to stand up for you. Under your somewhat ladylike ways you are as strong as I am. If you had given those fellows who are always jawing at you a sound thrashing they would have soon stopped humbugging you. But you are too much of the gentleman to fight them. For that matter, that's what attracted me to you. I like people who have been well brought up; and then I like an honest man, and you are an honest man. I believe you when you tell me that you are innocent. I remember the time when I hadn't yet used the knife. Oh, it remains impressed on my memory, does that first blow. I always carried a knife in my belt. I was a journeyman butcher in Le Pollet. Do you know Le Pollet? It's near Dieppe. No doubt you've been to the races there in the summer. You were always a smart chap. . . . Why are you so pale again?"
"Because I'm thinking of the races at Dieppe," returned the Nut, closing his eyes.
"Yes, those were jolly days. Believe me, that was the place for smartly dressed people. The pink of fashion, swagger officials in full fig, and English swells. And the chorus girls, what brazen hussies! . . . But to come back to my first affair with a knife, which happened on the cliff at Dieppe. Some blackguard was about to do in a decent fellow. I arrived on the scene. I tried to get at the blackguard with my knife, but killed the honest man instead. And I was sentenced. Fatalitas! That was the beginning of all my troubles. But I don't want to think about them, nor about France nor anything else. I have perpetrated more murders than there are fingers on my hands. But always with the best intentions! You know what I mean; it was hard luck. Fatalitas! So it's better for me to remain here forever, don't you think? A penal settlement, you see, was made for me; it's my hearth and home. You, you are young, and that's quite another pair of shoes. You can build up a new life. Marry an honest woman and make her happy. Take my advice, and keep away from the other sort of women. You've had your lesson in that particular, I dare say."
"You bet!" returned the Nut smiling, greatly astonished to hear such moral sentiments from Chéri-Bibi's mouth. "But you haven't yet told me what you are making."
Chéri-Bibi did not answer immediately, but raising his eyes to the jetty, the head of which sheltering the small natural harbor, could be seen, said:
"Take a squint yonder."
The Nut turned his gaze to the harbor. A large motor launch, evidently from the wood-cutting establishments at St. Laurent-du-Maroni, drew alongside. An officer landed and was received on the jetty by a number of officials.
"See what's taking place," went on Chéri-Bibi. "What do you make of it?"
"Well," returned the Nut, "it's the officer who has just finished his tour of inspection. They must be asking him for news of the war. It doesn't seem to be good news. They don't look a bit pleased with themselves."