There was no man, next to Leroux, whom I would rather have seen.
"I wanted to see you, M. Hewlett," he babbled.
"I can quite believe that, M. Lacroix," I answered. "You have looked for me before. But this time you have found me."
"I have something of importance to say to you, monsieur," he began again.
"I can believe that, too," I answered. "It is about le Vieil Ange, is it not?"
"By God, I did not mean—I swear to you, monsieur—listen, monsieur, one moment only," he stammered. "Lower your pistol. You see that I am unarmed!"
I lowered it. "Well, say what you have to say," I said to him.
"Leroux is a devil!" he burst out, with no pretended passion. "I want you to help me, M. Hewlett, and I can help you in a way you do not dream of. I am not one of his kind, to take his orders. Why in Quebec he would be like the dirt beneath my feet. He has a hold over me; he tempted me to gamble in one of his houses, and I—well, he has a hold over me. But he shall not drive me into murder. M. Hewlett, how much do you think this seigniory is worth?"
"I am not a financier," I answered. "Some half a million dollars, perhaps."
He came close to me and hissed into my ear: "Monsieur, there is more gold in these rocks than anywhere in the world! Look here! Here!"