"Tell me, tell me; I am all attention."
"I must tell you that, without ever having been able to give myself a reason for it, I have always felt a profound disgust for politics."
"There is nothing wrong in that," said the old man, shaking his head with a pensive air.
"Is there not? So that, if I consent to escort you as far as Tucumán, and to conduct you there safe and sound, it is on the express condition that there shall never be a political discussion between us as long as we remain together. I have come to America to study art; let us each enjoy our specialty."
"I ask nothing better, and subscribe joyfully to that condition."
"And then—"
"Ah! There is something else."
"Consequent on the fear that I have previously expressed, I wish to leave you when we are in sight of Tucumán—that is to say, let us understand one another, before entering it; and if some day chance should bring us together again, you will never tell anyone whatever the service I shall have rendered you. Will that suit you?"
M. Dubois considered for a moment.
"My dear compatriot," at last said he, "I understand and I appreciate, believe me, all the delicacy of your procedure towards me. I engage, with all my heart, not to trouble your happy artist carelessness by coming to bore you with political questions that, happily for you, you cannot understand; but your last condition is too hard. However great may be the danger which threatens me at this moment, I will expose myself to it without hesitation rather than consent to forget the gratitude that I owe you, and to feign towards you an indifference against which my whole being revolts. We are both Frenchmen, cast far from our country, on a land where all is hostile to us; we are consequently brothers, that is to say, we are severally answerable for each other; and you so well enter into this, that all you have done since our meeting has been done under this impression. Do not defend yourself; I know you better, perhaps, than you know yourself, but permit me to tell you that your exquisite delicacy causes you just now to overshoot your mark. It is not for yourself, but for me alone that you fear all this; I cannot accept this sacrifice of self-denial. Although I am not a man of action, as you are, I nevertheless will in no circumstances consent to compromise my duties; and it is a duty for me—a sacred duty ever—not to forget what I owe you, and to acknowledge my deep obligations to you."