"Something of less worth--your soul?"
Gautran shuddered and crossed himself.
"No, no," he muttered; "not that--not that!"
"Strange," said the Advocate with a contemptuous smile, "the value we place upon an unknown quantity! We cannot bargain, friend. Say now what you desire to say, and as briefly as you can."
But it was some time before Gautran could sufficiently recover himself to speak with composure.
"I want to know," he said at length, with a clicking in his throat, "whether you've been paid for what you did for me?"
"At your trial?"
"Aye, master."
"I have not been paid for what I did for you."
"When they told me yonder," said Gautran after another pause, pointing in the direction of Geneva, where the prison lay, "that you were to appear for me, they asked me how I managed it, but I couldn't tell them, and I'm beating my head now to find out, without getting any nearer to it. There must be a reason."