"Ah, Remi, boy, I was expecting you," he said, as I entered the room where visitors were allowed to see the prisoners. "I scolded Aunt Catherine for not bringing you with the others."
I brightened up at these words.
"The children tell me that you are going on your wanderings again. Have you forgotten that you almost died of cold and hunger, my boy?"
"No, I've not forgotten that."
"You were not alone then; you had some one to look after you. At your age I don't think it is right to go tramping across the country alone."
"You don't want me to bring you news of your children, then?" I asked.
"They told me that you were going to see them all, one after the other," he replied, "but I am not thinking of us when I ask you to give up this wandering life."
"And if I do what you ask I should be thinking of myself and not of you ... of Lise."
This time he looked at me for several seconds, then he suddenly took both my hands.