"Yes, you did," replied the inspector, who then promised he would indeed speak to Villefaramir. Thereupon, he left the cell of Samouard and went to see the other mad prisoner, an elderly Italian savant who claimed to possess the secret of a remarkable treasure, which he would give his captors in exchange for liberty. "Ha!" witticized the inspector with the naïveté of corruption. "If he were truly rich, he would not be in prison." The abbé's only reply was a glance of utter disdain.
The inspector's visit had revived Gamgès's spirits by reminding him that the shadows of captivity were but a passing thing. He resumed the habbit of counting the days, by scratching tallies on the wall; he made projects for his life together with Rosédès and her champignons. He resolved to wait a fortnight for his release; when that failed, he realized that his had been the notion of a ninnihammier and determined to wait another three months; failing that, he endured another six months – after all, had not the Gaffier always said that no wine should be drunk before its time? During this entire period, nothing had changed, not even the appalling jam that the jailer served with Samouard's daily baguette. Gamgès began to wonder whether the inspector's arrival had been nothing but a pleasant dream. The jailer no longer even bothered to shrug when questioned about Gamgès's eventual release. Gamgès almost forgot his own name, and began to call himself "N° 1420."
