"What he said? Let me see, what did he say? I don't remember; oh! yes, he told me that I had imagined all that—what we have been talking about. Yes, that was it, my dear fellow; I have, it seems, a vivid imagination, and your wife will never wrong you in the world! Never, as surely as we are standing here!"
Costantino looked at him eagerly. No, the man was not chaffing; he was perfectly serious, and evidently meant what he said.
"Ah, ha! he scolded you, did he? Good enough!" he cried.
"This wall," said the King of Spades, straightening himself, and regarding his hands, which were red and scarred from contact with the rough stones, "this wall looks as though it were made of chocolate; it is warm and damp. Ah! if it only were, there would be two advantages: we could eat it, and then escape! Have you ever eaten any chocolate?"
"Why, of course, and Giovanna too; she is very fond of it, but it is fearfully dear. Well, and what then?"
"What then?" exclaimed the other impatiently. "My dear fellow, you drive me crazy. Oh! she will wait for you twenty-three years—never fear!"
"No, not that long; I shall be out of here long before that," replied Costantino confidently. "Then too," he added with a gleam of humour, "there is the pardon; you were to see the King, you know, about a pardon for me."
"Precisely," said the other. "I was to see the King. You don't believe me? I shall, however, go to him at once; he receives every official, and what am I if not an official? He is fond of the army; he is young; I hear he is getting fat. Ah! not as fat as I, though"—and he laughed.
From then on, whenever Costantino tried to bring the conversation around to the old subject, the other contrived to head him off; but at all events he was no longer tormented.