"Thank you, M. Lépine," said Crochard warmly. "I have always respected you as a man of your word. It was I who assisted Samson to escape, since his punishment seemed to me undeserved; it was I who secured false papers for him and established him at Toulon. He has done well, but he dare not have his family with him. He loves his family, and without them he finds life sad. M. Delcassé, you have told me to name a reward—I ask that Samson may be pardoned."
"It is granted," said Delcassé, in a low voice; "but is there nothing else? Is there nothing I can do for you, my friend?"
Crochard had arisen and he and the great Minister stood face to face.
"Yes, there is something, sir," he said, "which you can do for me, and which will make me very proud. You are a great man, and I admire you. There are not many men to whom I raise my hat; but I salute you, sir, and I hope you will accept my hand!"
Delcassé's hand shot out and seized Crochard's and held it close.
"It is I who am honoured!" he said thickly.
But at the end of a moment, Crochard drew his hand away.
"Do not idealise me, sir," he said. "I am outside the law; you and I go different ways. If for once, M. Lépine and I have worked together, it was because France demanded it. We admire each other; we have found that we possess certain qualities in common. But now I have done my part; the rest is in your hands. So I say adieu; our alliance is over; we are enemies again—"
"Not enemies," broke in Delcassé, quickly. "Antagonists perhaps; but not enemies. I wish—"
"No, do not wish," said Crochard. "My life satisfies me. I have a certain work to do, and I am happy in doing it. But I accept your word—henceforth we are antagonists, not enemies. Adieu, sir."