“No.”
“Not to hurt him—and you have taken his life?”
“No, I say.”
“—As I am going to take yours.”
If soulless courage be a virtue, he could boast that one. He never flinched before the crawling horror of that unseen death. His voice, as he spoke, had not altered by a note, a tremor, from its accustomed harshness. Yet, all the while, he was desperately enough calculating his chances.
“That’s as you will,” he said. “Only I’d advise you hear me speak first. All considered, I’ve done my best for you.”
She gave a little wrenching laugh.
“Well,” he said: “Will you listen?”
“I’ll listen,” she answered. “I can aim better, being silent.”
“Make sure of me then. His life stands behind mine. Ah! does that shake you? Now, be reasonable, if you can. Was the glacier my creature, and coincidence in my pay? I might never have opened my lips, and they would have convicted your Cartouche a dozen times without. The people cried for him.”