Frank paused.
"I cannot tell you now," he answered. "Perhaps I will soon."
"When you please, monsieur, but you must be hungry."
"I am indeed hungry, madame. I suppose it is more than twenty-four hours since I have tasted anything."
"Poor boy!" said the woman, compassionately. "I will at once get you something to eat. We are poor people, monsieur, and you may not like our plain fare."
"Don't speak of it, madame. You are only too kind to me. I can eat anything."
Frank had only spoken the truth. He was almost famished; and when the food was set before him, plain as it was, he ate with eager satisfaction, to the evident pleasure of his kindly hostess. But in sitting up, he realized by the soreness of his limbs and the aching of his back, that though no bones were broken, he was far from being in a condition to get up. It was with a feeling of relief that he sank back upon the bed, and with listless eyes watched the movements of his hostess. He was not equal to the exertion of forming plans for the future.