"Your will?" cried Pitou, laughing. "Hang me, if you look like a man about to die!"
"No; but I may be a man who will get killed," returned the revolutionist, pointing to his gun and cartridge-box hanging on the wall.
"That's a fact," said Ange Pitou; "we are all mortal."
"So that I have come to place my will in your hands as the sole legatee."
"No, I thank you. But you are only saying this for a joke?"
"I am telling you a fact."
"But it can not be. When a man has rightful heirs he can not give away his property to outsiders."
"You are wrong, Pitou; he can."
"Then he ought not."