Page 143 - A Knight of the White Cross

in which most of them lay, without making the slightest movement, so long
as there was light to enable him to make out their figures. He himself

addressed two or three of them, as they lay with their eyes wide open,
asking questions with reference to the work; but in no case did he receive

any reply. The men seemed altogether unconscious of being addressed,
being absorbed in the thought of their far distant homes and families which
they might never see again.

Gervaise walked a few times up and down the room, and as he approached

a silence fell each time upon the groups of men talking together. More than
once a figure rose soon afterwards from the ground, and, as he came along
again, asked him a few questions about himself. As soon as it was dark, he

lay down in a vacant space on the rushes. Shortly afterwards talking ceased
altogether, and there was quiet in the vaulted room. With the first gleam of

daylight they were astir, and, when the doors were opened, poured out into
the courtyard, where all had a wash at the fountain. Half an hour later, a
meal, precisely similar to that of the previous evening, was served out; then

the overseers called over the muster roll, the gangs were made up, and each,
under its officer, started for its work.

Gervaise, with the men of his room, proceeded down to the port, and at
once took their seats on the benches of the galley, one foot being chained to

a ring in the deck, the other to that of a companion at the oar. The slaves
were more cheerful now. As there was no work to do at present, they were

allowed to talk, and an occasional laugh was heard, for the sun and
brightness of the day cheered them. Many, after years of captivity, had
grown altogether reckless, and it was among these that there was most

talking; the younger men seemed, for the most part, silent and moody.

"You will get accustomed to it," the man next to Gervaise said cheeringly.
"When I first came here, it seemed to me that I could not support the life for
a month -- that the fate was too dreadful to be borne, and that death would

be most welcome; but, like the rest, I became accustomed to it in time.
After all, the work is no harder than one would do at home. There is no

stint of food, and it is no worse than one would have, were one labouring in
the fields. Were it not for the loss of those we love, it would be nothing;