But realising that an important matter was at stake, a command which could not be disregarded, he picked up the oars again; and the rattling of the tholes mingled with the clamourings of the storm.
The little lantern burned in front of him.

Sometimes birds fluttered past it and obscured the light.

But he could distinguish the eyes of the leper who stood at the stern, as motionless as a column.
And the trip lasted a long, long time.
When they reached the hut, Julian closed the door and saw the man sit down on the stool.

The species of shroud that was wrapped around him had fallen below his loins, and his shoulders and chest and lean arms were hidden under blotches of scaly pustules.
Enormous wrinkles crossed his forehead.

Like a skeleton, he had a hole instead of a nose, and from his bluish lips came breath which was fetid and as thick as mist.
"I am hungry," he said.
Julian set before him what he had, a piece of pork and some crusts of coarse bread.
After he had devoured them, the table, the bowl, and the handle of the knife bore the same scales that covered his body.
Then he said: "I thirst!" Julian fetched his jug of water and when he lifted it, he smelled an aroma that dilated his nostrils and filled his heart with gladness.