“Why not?”
“Because he is a creature of fervid aspirations and lame conclusions.”
“Has he taken you into his confidence?”
“More; into his arms.”
“How was that?”
“He would cross the Glacier of the Winds without a guide; he fell into a crevasse which, luckily for him, his alpenstock bridged. But he could not get out until I pulled him. There’s the thing in the corner. Do you see it? I gave him my hunting-knife for it, the one with the jade handle and little rat’s head in-gold. Nothing would satisfy him but that we exchanged blood tokens.”
“I don’t doubt it. A fair exchange, and M. Cartouche all over.”
“Why, thou unconscionable hunks! didn’t he give me, for his part, what he had reason to value most in the world? ‘Use it for my sake,’ says he, ‘so that I may dream always of my two best friends going hand in hand.’ There were tears in his eyes. Do you think he will ever ascend Mont Blanc?”
“Maybe not. But his aspirations mount higher.”
“You mean to the de France. Ha, ha, old fox! you have not had me, you see.”