"Ay, Signor Paolo," I replied; "once in we will do very well; but as the voltigeurs sleep with their muskets loaded and their belts on, they will start to arms the moment the sentinel fires his piece."
"But he must be disposed of," said Santugo, coolly. "Giacomo!"
His fac-totum appeared immediately.
"A French sentinel occupies the ravine through which we must advance undiscovered. He must not fire: you will see to this as you value life."
Giacomo bowed intelligently, and was withdrawing, when the voice of Gascoigne arrested him.
"You murdering: villain, come here! what the devil—will you permit this piece of rascality, Dundas?"
"Assuredly not!" said I, dismounting from Cartouche.
"I am an English officer, and not an assassin!" said Lascelles, in great wrath.
"You have both only anticipated me," I replied. "Santugo, we cannot permit the poor soldier to be slain in a manner so dastardly. No! I would rather advance under the hottest fire of musketry, than consent to it: my own soldiers at least will follow me." A murmur of assent rose from the 62nd.
"Cospetto!" exclaimed Santugo, impatiently; "and to save the life of this paltry voltigeur, who will perhaps be shot afterwards, you may sacrifice all our lives and the success of the expedition?"