Papillon by Henri Charrière Read Free Book Online Page B

have been hard to find him in the shifting mob of eight hundred men filling the enormous yard. We hadn’t seen Julot, Le Guittou or Santini since we’d arrived.
    The advantage of communal life was that we lived, talked and belonged to a new society, if you could call it a society. There was so much to say, to listen to, to do that there was no time to think. When I realized how much the past had blurred and been relegated to second place in relation to my present life, I figured that once you arrived at the bagne , you probably forgot who you were and why you were there because you concentrated on only one thing—escape. But I was wrong. By far the most absorbing thing was to stay alive. Where were the cops, the jury, the court, the judges, my wife, my father, my friends? They were back there, very much alive, and each one had a place in my heart, but because of the excitement of departure, the great leap into the unknown, the new friends and acquaintances, they didn’t have the same importance as before. But it only seemed that way. Once I willed it, when my brain was ready to open the drawer where each of them belonged, they’d all be there again.
    They were leading Galgani to me, for even with his thick glasses he could barely see. He seemed in better health. He came up and without speaking squeezed my hand.
    “I want to give you back your plan ,” I said. “Now that you’re well, you can carry it yourself. It’s too much responsibility for me during the trip, and who knows if we’ll be anywhere near each other or even if we’ll see each other at the bagne . So it’s better if you take it.”
    Galgani looked unhappy.
    “Come on. Come to the toilets and let me give you your plan .”
    “No, I don’t want it. You keep it. I give it to you as a present. It’s all yours.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “I don’t want to be killed for my plan . I’d rather live without money than be killed because of it. I give it to you because, after all, there’s no sense in you risking your life to keep my money. This way, if you risk your life, it’s for your own benefit.”
    “You’re scared, Galgani. Have you been threatened?”
    “Yes. Three Arabs are on my tail all the time. I haven’t come to see you because I don’t want them to suspect we’re in this together. Every time I go to the toilet, day or night, one of those spooks comes and stands near me. I’ve tried to make it clear I don’t have a plan —without making a big deal of it—but they keep watching me. I’m sure they think somebody else has it. They don’t know who, but they follow me around to see if I get it back.”
    I looked at Galgani and realized that he was terrified. I asked, “What part of the yard do they hang around?”
    “Near the kitchen and laundry.”
    “All right. You stay here and I’ll go over.... No, you come with me.” I took the lancet out of my cap and held the blade up my right sleeve, the handle in my hand. We spotted them right away. There were four of them, three Arabs and a Corsican named Girando. I understood right away: the Corsican had been snubbed by the underworld guys and had spilled to the Arabs. He must have known that Galgani was Pascal Matra’s brother-in-law and therefore had to have a plan .
    “How are things, Mokrane?”
    “O.K., Papillon. How are things with you?”
    “Not so good. I came over to tell you that Galgani is my friend. If anything happens to him, the first one to get it is you, Girando. The rest will follow. Take it any way you like.”
    Mokrane stood up. He was as tall as I—about six feet—and just as broad. He was ready for a fight, but then I pulled out the lancet, all shiny and new. I held it in the palm of my hand and said, “If you move, I’ll kill you like a dog.”
    Clearly bewildered because I had a weapon, for we were constantly searched, and impressed by my air of assurance, not to mention the length of the lancet, he said, “I was only getting up to talk, not to