“Let me pass, and I will pardon thy having given me that life.”
“Still the same, brigand?”
“Ay, assassin.”
“What matters to thee that boy conspirator?” asked the judge.
“What matters to thee that old man who reigns?” answered the other.
“Give me that paper; I’ve sworn to have it.”
“Leave it with me; I’ve sworn to carry it back.”
“What can be thy oath and thy God?” demanded Laubardemont.
“And thine?” replied Jacques. “Is’t the crucifix of red-hot iron?”
Here Houmain, rising between them, laughing and staggering, said to the judge, slapping him on the shoulder.