His hands had moved towards his breast, against which he was holding his golden-eyed friend.

There are times in life when the brute creation contrasts favourably with the lords thereof, and this was one of them.

It was hard to part just now.
Antoine, who had been internally cursing his own folly in bringing such a companion into the cell, now interfered.

"If you are going to stay here to be bitten or spit at, Francois, my friend," said he, "I am not.

Thou art zealous, my comrade, but dull as an owl.