"Rot!" Max said fiercely. "You have plenty to live for. When this scoundrel Rodolphe is disposed of they will be reinstating you. You've got to live to have your honour vindicated. Does that mean nothing to you?"
Bertrand shrugged his shoulders. "It would interest me exactly as the procession under the windows interests those who watch. The procession passes, and the street is empty again. What is that to me?" He snapped his fingers carelessly. But the animation of his face had transformed it completely, giving him a look of youth with which Max was wholly unfamiliar. "See!" he said. "Le bon Dieu has given me this thing to do, and He will give me the strength to do it. That is His way, mon ami. He does not command us to make bricks without straw."
Max grunted. "Whatever you do, you will have to pay for," he observed dryly. "And how are you going to get to Valpré without being arrested?"
"But I will disguise myself. That should be easy." Bertrand laughed again, and suddenly stretched out his arms and rose. "I am well," he declared. "I have been given the strength, and I will use it. Have no fear, Max. It will not fail me."
"I shall go too, then," Max said abruptly. "Sit down, man, and be rational. You don't suppose I shall let you tear all over France in your present condition by yourself, do you? If you excite yourself in this fashion, you will be having that infernal pain again. Sit down, I tell you!"
Bertrand sat down, but as if he moved on wires. "No," he said with confidence, "I shall not suffer any more to-night. You say that you will go with me? But indeed it is not necessary. And you have your work to do. I would not have you leave it on my account."
"I am coming," Max said, with finality, "And look here, Bertrand, I shall be in command of this expedition, and we are not going to travel at break-neck speed. You will not reach Valpré till the day after to-morrow. That is understood, is it?"
Bertrand hesitated and looked dubious.
"Come, man, it's for your own good. You don't want to die before you get there." Max's tone was severely practical.
"Ah no! Not that! I must not fail, Max. I must not fail." Bertrand spoke with great earnestness. He laid an impressive hand on his companion's arm. For a moment his face betrayed emotion. "I cannot—I will not—die before her happiness is assured. It is that for which I now live, for which I am ready to give my life. Max—mon ami—you will not let me die before—my work—is done!"