"Be it so; listen to me then, my lord; only I doubt, I repeat, whether you will understand me."
"Speak, speak."
"Do not be angry, then, my lord, I beg you, if what you are about to hear should appear a little hard. To a question frankly put I must make a candid answer. You personally do not interest me at all. You yourself have said that I scarcely know you. Only it happens that you are in some respects under my keeping; that when I was placed under your orders, I swore to defend you in all circumstances during the time we should travel together. When that miserable Malco betrayed you, I understood the responsibility that the treason caused to devolve upon me."
"But," interrupted the marquis, "that is no reason why you should sacrifice your life."
"It is not to you, my lord, it is to myself that I make this sacrifice—to my honour, which would be wounded if I did not, if necessary, fall by your side, in trying, up to the last moment, to protect you, and to make a shield for you by my body. But," added he, with a sad smile, "of what use is it to dwell on this subject my lord? Profit by my devotion, without disquieting yourself about other matters. Moreover, it is not so great a thing as you think."
"How is that?"
"Eh! Mon Dieu, my lord, for a very simple reason; we soldados da conquista, who incessantly make war against the Indian bravos, continually stake our lives, and always finish by being killed in some ambuscade. You see that the sacrifice I make for you is very little, and does not merit in any way that I should glory in it."
Don Roque felt emotion in spite of himself, at the artless loyalty of this half-civilised man.
"You are worth more than I am," he said, holding out his hand.
"Why, no, my lord; I am less civilised, that is all; and," he continued, "now that I have answered your question, we will, if you please, return to our business."