Stephane looked at him, smiling.
"So you have crossed the roofs to come and preach conversion to me, like Father Alexis!"
"Conversion! I don't know. I don't undertake to work miracles; but the metamorphosis—"
"You speak to me much about my soul; but my life, my destiny, will you also find the secret of transforming them?"
"That secret we will seek together. I have already some light upon it. Only let us not press it. Before undertaking that great work, it is essential that your heart should recover its health and strength."
"Ingrate that I am!" cried Stephane. "My destiny! It has changed from to-day. Yes, from this moment I am no longer alone in the world. Frightful void in which I consumed myself, despair who with your frightful wings made it night for an abandoned child, it is all over now, I am delivered from you; the instrument of torture is broken. Henceforth, I believe, I hope, I breathe! But think of it, my friend, for me to live will be to see you, to hear you, to speak to you. Could you come here often?"
"As often as prudence will permit,—two or three times a week. We will choose our days well; we will consult the sky, the wind, the stars. On other days, at propitious hours, we will place ourselves at our windows, and communicate by signs which we will agree upon, for it seems that you, like me, are long-sighted. And besides, I know the sign language. I will teach it to you, and if you ever send me such a message as this upon your fingers: 'I am sad, I am sick, come this evening at any risk'—Well, whatever the winds and stars may say—"
"To expose your life foolishly!" interrupted Stephane, "I would rather die. Curses upon me if ever by a caprice— But away with such a thought! And how long, if you please, will this happiness, which you promise me, last? Some day, alas! retaking your liberty—"
"I have two, perhaps three years to pass here; it will even depend upon me whether I stay longer or not. Whatever happens, be assured, that before I leave this house, your destiny will have changed. I have told you to believe in the seen; believe also in the unforseen."
"The unforeseen!" exclaimed Stephane, "I believe in it, since I have seen it enter here by the window."