Paul rose and stamped his feet on the ground; he looked at his companion, and his surprise burst out in the question, "You really mean to let me go with five and twenty thousand francs!"
"I act as I am sure the lady whose name has been unavoidably mentioned would wish to act."
Paul stared again, then sniggered again, and pocketed his spoil.
"Only you must understand that—that the mine is worked out, my friend. I think your way lies there." He pointed towards the road that led up from the ford to Sasellano.
Still Paul lingered, seeming to wish to say something that he found difficult to phrase.
"I was devilish hard up," he muttered at last.
"That is always a temptation," said the Captain, gravely.
"A fellow does things that—that look queer. I say, would n't that odd five thousand come in handy for yourself?"
The Captain looked at him; almost he refused the unexpected offer scornfully; but something in Paul's manner made him cry, quite suddenly, almost unconsciously, "Why, my dear fellow, if you put it that way—yes! As a loan from you to me, eh?"
"A loan? No—I—I—"