The galley-slaves were shipped from Chalons to Lyons. No accident marred the trip, and all the prisoners were in good humor, with the exception of Benedetto. Anselmo tried his best to arouse his comrade, but his efforts were fruitless. Benedetto remained silent and gloomy. When the convicts were leaving the ship at Lyons, Anselmo whispered to his companion:

"Magloire is a good fellow: the file he sent me is sharp."

"The file?" repeated Benedetto, not understanding the allusion; "he did not give you any instrument!"

"What a stupid fellow you are. But keep patience; later on I will tell you more."

Benedetto, since the journey from Paris, was no longer recognizable; he no longer resembled the proud Andrea Cavalcanti, and sometimes even thought he was going crazy.

What sustained him was the thought of the million his mother intended to give the Jesuits on the 25th of February. This million he must secure for himself; but how he was to do so he did not know himself.

At first he thought Anselmo would keep his word and free him; but gradually this hope vanished, and as the column marched into Toulon on the 28th of January, Benedetto was on the verge of despair.

In Toulon the iron necklace was taken off of the prisoners and replaced by an iron ball fastened to the leg. The prisoners were brought to the lavatory, given a bath, and then dressed in the historical clothing of a galley-slave.

As Anselmo and Benedetto were of the same stature, it was only natural that they were both chained together. They were placed in pontoon No. 2, and the little rat-king was their companion.

The rat soon made itself at home with all the prison officials and the prisoners, and not a night passed but what it played its tricks. Anselmo had taught it a great deal more, and when he asked it:

"Little rat-king, what are your feelings for the king, the law, and the turnkeys?" the little animal would bow at every side, cross its front feet over its breast, and move its pointed nose as if it were murmuring prayers, at the same time casting its eyes to the floor. If Anselmo would then ask:

"What is the penalty for those condemned to death?"

The rat would throw itself flat on the ground, and lie motionless, as if to appear dead.

Benedetto was the only one who was not amused. Whenever the rat came near him he would tremble violently. If Anselmo saw it he would make sarcastic remarks about princely ways, which caused Benedetto to grind his teeth with rage. His only desire now was to get away from his comrades in chains. But there was little hope for this, more especially as he heard a jailer one day tell Anselmo he should get rid of his grumbling companion; if the rat were to support the petition it would not be difficult, and the ex-priest laughingly replied:

"Not a bit of it; Benedetto is just as agreeable to me as another; let us leave things as they are!"

As soon as the jailer turned away, Benedetto, mad with rage, turned to the ex-priest and said:

"Why won't you free me from your society?"

"Because I do not wish to have any strange face about me," was the indifferent reply. "You do not embarrass me in the least, and as I do not embarrass you—"

"On the contrary, you are distasteful to me," interrupted Benedetto, violently.

"Really? Your candor pleases me. Under all circumstances, we shall stay together."

"And suppose I kill you?" hissed Benedetto.

"Hem, my boy, that is easier said than done. Besides, I can tell you why you hate me."

"I am curious to know! I hardly know myself why I hate you," said Benedetto, maliciously.

"Because you think I lied to you, because in prison I spoke of escape, and have not said a word about that since."

Benedetto stammered a few unintelligible words, and was ashamed to have had his thoughts read so easily.

"Do you know the story of Brutus, who pretended to be a simpleton, so as to bring about the downfall of Tarquin the more effectually?" asked Anselmo, with a malicious smile.

"You are making fun of me," Benedetto gruffly answered. "Did you deceive me when you gave me the letter for Monsieur Magloire?"

"Do you really think so?"

"What a question! Do you think Monsieur Magloire could aid us in escaping?"

"Suppose he has already done so."

Benedetto looked at his comrade with wide open mouth.

"Are you really so anxious to escape?" continued Anselmo.

"Really anxious? I would give my right hand were I able to escape from prison on a certain day!"

"And when is that?"

"I must leave Toulon on the night of the 24th of April."

"You must! That settles it."

"Do not be sarcastic—I must be at liberty or else—"

"Well? or else—"

"Then, you will not betray me, will you?"

"Your anxiety on that point comes rather late," said Anselmo dryly. "To reassure you, however, let me tell you that it is not to my interest to betray you. Look at me. Just as I stand here, I have the power to set you free on the spot."

Benedetto uttered a cry.

"Are you speaking the truth?" he breathlessly asked.

"And why should I deceive you? Let me give you my conditions, and if you accept them you will be free on the evening of the 24th of February."

"What are your conditions?" asked Benedetto faintly.

"Give me half of the million you are seeking to get, and we are quits."

The Corsican looked tremblingly at the ex-priest.

"How do you know?" he stammered.

"That you are seeking to get a million—well, out of your dreams. The words 'the 24th of February,' and 'one million,' form the Alpha and Omega of your thoughts, and in your sleep you constantly repeat these words. You want to be free on the 24th, so as to steal this million. Steal it, but give me my share!"

"And you want?" stammered Benedetto.

"One quarter! I could demand half, but I will be modest."

"How are you going to secure our freedom?" asked Benedetto after a pause.

"That is my affair! I have an accomplice whom I can trust."

"An accomplice? Who can it be?"

"Swear to me that you will give me a quarter part of your million, and I will show him to you."

Benedetto took the oath. Anselmo whistled for his rat, and, pointing to the little animal, solemnly said:

"Here is our savior—the little rat-king will free us!"