“Pray thank him for us, and say how grateful we feel for his gift,” said Ronald.
“We may not see him again,” answered one of the men. “He is ill in bed, and he will be going away into the interior, as soon as he is able to be removed.”
The men said that they did not know the young officer’s name. There could be little doubt, however, that Alfonse Gerardin had sent the provisions.
Ronald in vain tried to ascertain if the soldiers knew how they, the English prisoners, were to be disposed of, but the Frenchmen only shrugged their shoulders, and replied that that was no business of theirs. It was not likely that they would be kept for ever in the tower, which, as the rats had already deserted it, was very likely to tumble about their ears.
“It is a wonder, then, that it did not come down during the late gale,” observed Ronald.
“Ah,” said one of the men with a shrug and a wink, “it is a wonder truly, considering how rotten it is from the top to the bottom. But we must not stop here, talking with you Englishmen, or we shall be suspected of wishing to help you to escape. Adieu, adieu,—au revoir. You don’t seem much cast down. Perhaps you would be, if you knew the fate prepared for you.”
With another wink from the chief speaker, a corporal, by his uniform, the man took his departure.
“I am certain, sir, they had meaning in what they said,” observed Ronald to Mr Calder, explaining the Frenchman’s remarks. “Gerardin is not ungrateful, and wishes to help us to escape.”
Rawson laughed at the notion of a Frenchman being grateful, and even Mr Calder seemed to doubt that he, or any one else, had the slightest idea of helping them to escape.
“People are not fond of putting their lives in jeopardy, to help those in whom they have no interest,” he remarked.