Masin brought the news to Malipieri with his coffee, and the paper itself. Malipieri scarcely ever read it, but Masin never failed to, and his big, healthy face was very grave.
Malipieri felt as if he were going to have brain fever, as his eye ran along the lines.
"Masin," he said, when he had finished, "did you ever kill a man?"
"No, sir," answered Masin. "You have always believed that I was innocent, though I had to serve my seven years."
"I did not mean that," said Malipieri.
Then he sat a long time with his untasted coffee at his elbow and the crumpled little sheet in his hand.
"Of course, sir," Masin said at last, "I owe you everything, and if you ordered me—"
He paused significantly, but his master did not understand.
"What?" he asked, starting nervously.
"Well, sir, if it were necessary for your safety, that somebody should be killed, I would risk the galleys for life, sir. What am I, without you?"