Then I bared my ankle also, and showed the place in my eye where the guerilla had stabbed me.
"He can take his gruel," said the Bustler.
"What a glutton he'd have made for the middle-weights," remarked the trainer; "with six months' coaching he'd astonish the fancy. It's a pity he's got to go back to prison."
I did not like that last remark at all. I buttoned up my coat and rose from the bed.
"I must ask you to let me continue my journey," said I.
"There's no help for it, mounseer," the trainer answered. "It's a hard thing to send such a man as you back to such a place, but business is business, and there's a twenty pound reward. They were here this morning, looking for you, and I expect they'll be round again."
His words turned my heart to lead.
"Surely, you would not betray me!" I cried. "I will send you twice twenty pounds on the day that I set foot upon France. I swear it upon the honour of a French gentleman."
But I only got head-shakes for a reply. I pleaded, I argued, I spoke of the English hospitality and the fellowship of brave men, but I might as well have been addressing the two great wooden clubs which stood balanced upon the floor
