"Oh, of that I must take my chance," he made answer, no whit troubled by the warning. "I go home now for the ransom, and I will e'en be at the pains to doff this gear for something darker."
"Monsieur," I pleaded, "why not stay at home to get your dues of sleep? Vigo will bring the gold; he and I will put the matter through."
"I ask not your advice," he cried haughtily; then with instant softening: "Nay, this is my affair, Félix. I have taken it upon myself to recover Monsieur his papers. I must carry it through myself to the very omega."
I said no more, partly because it would have done no good, partly because, in spite of the strange word, I understood how he felt.
"Perhaps you should go home and sleep," he suggested tenderly.
"Nay," cried I. "I had a cat-nap in the lane; I'm game to see it through."
"Then," he commanded, "you may stay here-abouts and watch that door. For I have some curiosity to know whether he will need to fare forth after the treasure. If he do as I guess, he will spend the next hours as you counsel me, making up arrears of sleep, and you'll not see him till a quarter or so before eleven. But whenever he comes out, follow him. Keep your safe distance and dog him if you can."
"And if I lose him?"
"Come back home. Station yourself now where he won't notice you. That arch there should serve."
We had been standing at the street corner, sheltered by a balcony over our heads from the view of Peyrot's window.