'Mercy,' he whispered,
faintly. 'Mercy for me!--comrade.'
"'Ah, comrade,' I said, in a low tone. 'Yes, comrade, of course. Well,
then, shout Vive l'anarchie.'
"He flung up his arms, his face up to the sky and his mouth wide open in
a great yell of despair. 'Vive l'anarchie! Vive--'
"He collapsed all in a heap, with a bullet through his head.
"I flung them both overboard. I threw away the revolver, too. Then I sat
down quietly. I was free at last! At last. I did not even look towards
the ship; I did not care; indeed, I think I must have gone to sleep,
because all of a sudden there were shouts and I found the ship almost
on top of me. They hauled me on board and secured the boat astern. They
were all blacks, except the captain, who was a mulatto. He alone knew a
few words of French. I could not find out where they were going nor who
they were. They gave me something to eat every day; but I did not like
the way they used to discuss me in their language. Perhaps they were
deliberating about throwing me overboard in order to keep possession of
the boat.
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