The soldier dropped the butt of his rifle with a ring, and said deferentially:
“Pardon, Monsieur, but the gamin has been here every day and all day for two weeks. It’s disgusting.”
“Is he hungry?”
“Ma foi? I can’t tell you,” laughed the sentry, shifting his weight to his right foot and leaning on the cross of his bayonet.
“Are you hungry, little one?” called Gethryn, pleasantly.
The child raised his head, with a wolfish stare, then sank it again and murmured: “I have seen him and touched him.”
Gethryn turned to the soldier.
“What does he mean by that?” he demanded.
The sentry shrugged his shoulders. “He means he saw a hunchback. They say when one sees a hunchback and touches him, it brings good luck, if the hunchback is neither too old nor too young. Dame! I don’t say there’s nothing in it, but it can’t save Henri Rigaud.”
“And who is Henri Rigaud?”