And I, who had wondered where Lecamus had gone; thinking sometimes that
he was one of the deserters who had left us! But when he came nearer his
face was as the face of a dead man, and a cold chill came over us. His
eyes, which were cast down, flickered under the thin eyelids in which
all the veins were visible. His face was gray like that of the dying.
'Is he dead?' I said. But, except M. le Curé, no one knew that I spoke.

'Not even so,' said M. le Cure, with a mortification in his voice, which
I have never forgotten. 'Not even so. That might be something. They
teach us not by angels--by the fools and offscourings of the earth.'

And he would have turned away. It was a humiliation. Was not he the
representative of the Unseen, the vice-gerent, with power over heaven
and hell? but something was here more strong than he. He stood by my
side in spite of himself to listen to the ambassador. I will not deny
that such a choice was strange, strange beyond measure, to me also.

'Lecamus,' I said, my voice trembling in my throat, 'have you been among
the dead, and do you live?'

'I live,' he said; then looked around with tears upon the crowd. 'Good
neighbours, good friends,' he said, and put out his hand and touched
them; he was as much agitated as they.

'M. Lecamus,' said I, 'we are here in very strange circumstances, as you
know; do not trifle with us. If you have indeed been with those who have
taken the control of our city, do not keep us in suspense. You will see
by the emblems of my office that it is to me you must address yourself;
if you have a mission, speak.'