Will you do me one small service, friend,
before you go to your bed?"
"Yes, certainly, if I can," I answered.
He laughed slightly and looked at me with a strange, keen glitter in
his eyes; then, taking my hand, he gave it a powerful grip. "No, no,
my friend, I am not going to trouble you to do anything for me," he
said. "I have the devil's temper, and to-day, in a moment of rage, I
insulted you. It therefore surprised me when you came here and spoke
kindly to me. I desired to know whether that feeling was only on the
surface; since the men one meets with are often like horned cattle.
When one falls, his companions of the pasture-ground remember only his
past offences, and make haste to gore him."
His manner surprised me; he did not now seem like the Marcos Marco I
had travelled with that day. Touched with his words, I sat down on the
stocks facing him, and begged him to tell me what I could do for him.
"Well, friend," said he, "you see the stocks are fastened with a
padlock. If you will get the key, and take me out, I will sleep well;
then in the morning, before the old one-eyed lunatic is up, you can
come and turn the key in the lock again. Nobody will be the wiser."
"And you are not thinking of escaping?" I said.
"I have not even the faintest wish to escape," he replied.
"You could not escape if you did," I said, "for the room would be
locked, of course.
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