"Do so, my lord."
"What is the reason which induces you to manifest so great a devotion—so complete a self-denial?"
"What good would it do to tell you, my lord; you would not understand me."
"Several times have I asked myself this question without being able to reply. We have only known each other two months; before the treason of Malco, I had scarcely exchanged a few ordinary words with you."
"Mon Dieu, my lord," carelessly answered the Indian; "I in nowise interest myself in you, believe me."
"But, then," cried the marquis, with the utmost surprise, "why risk your life for me?"
"I have told you, my lord, that you would not understand me."
"Never mind, my friend; answer my question, I beg you."
"You wish it, your Excellency?"
"I demand it, as far as I am permitted to have my way on such a matter."