[CHAPTER VII]
Nevertheless, an hour afterwards, Jean Barrada reappeared, ostensibly to arrange one of those tackles which are used for the guns.
And this time, Yves called him in a low voice:
"Barrada, you might, like a good fellow, get me a drink of water."
Barrada went quickly to fetch his little mug, which during the day he carried on his belt and which he put away at night in a gun; he poured into it some water which was of the colour of rust, having been brought from La Plata in an iron tank, and a little wine stolen from the steward's room, and a little sugar stolen from the Commander's office.
And then with much kindness and very gently, he raised Yves' head and gave him to drink.
"And now," he said, "won't you change your clothes?"
"Yes," replied Yves, in a meek voice, which had become almost childlike, and sounded odd by contrast with his manner of a short time before.
He helped him to undress, humouring him as one might a child. He dried his chest, his shoulders and his arms, put him on dry clothes, and made him lie down again, first placing a sack under his head so that he might be able to sleep easier.
When Yves murmured his thanks, an amiable smile, the first, passed over his face, changing its whole expression. It was over now. His heart was softened and he was himself again. To-day the change had come more quickly than usual.