No matter at what hour Gaston returned, he found Jacques waiting; and when he woke he found him ready, as now, on this morning, after a strange night.
"What is it, Jacques ?" he repeated.
The old name! Jacques shivered a little with pleasure.

Presently he broke out with: "Monsieur, when do we go back ?" "Go back where ?" "To the North, monsieur." "What's in your noddle now, Brillon ?" The impatient return to "Brillon" cut Jacques like a whip.
"Monsieur," he suddenly said, his face glowing, his hands opening nervously, "we have eat, we have drunk, we have had the dance and the great music here: is it enough?
Sometimes as you sleep you call out, and you toss to the strokes of the tower-clock.

When we lie on the Plains of Yath from sunset to sunrise, you never stir then.

You remember when we sleep on the ledge of the Voshti mountain--so narrow that we were tied together?
Well, we were as babes in blankets.

In the Prairie of the Ten Stars your fingers were on the trigger firm as a bolt; here I have watch them shake with the coffee-cup.