She had
previously written three times, handing the letters to the _Surveillant_,
as per regulations, and had received no reply. Fritz, who had no idea why
he was arrested and was crazy to get in touch with his embassy, had
likewise written several letters, taking the utmost care to state the
facts only and always handing them in; but he had never received a word
in return. The obvious inference was that letters from a foreigner to his
embassy were duly accepted by the _Surveillant_ (Warden), but rarely, if
ever, left La Ferte.
B. and I were conversing merrily apropos the God-sent miracle of our
escape from Vingt-et-Un, when a benign-faced personage of about fifty
with sparse greyish hair and a Benjamin Franklin expression appeared on
the other side of the fence, from the direction of the door through which
I had passed after bumping the beefy bull. "_Planton_" it cried heavily
to the wooden-handed one, "Two men to go get water." Harree and Pompom
were already at the gate with the archaic water-wagon, the former pushing
from behind and the latter in the shafts. The guardian of the _cour_
walked up and opened the gate for them, after ascertaining that another
_planton_ was waiting at the corner of the building to escort them on
their mission.
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