"Your friend!" the tone contemptuous and full of loathing as Andrew answered him.
"Ay. If you doubt it--and since you are so bold and brave a man--show yourself to them and see."
For a moment, stung by the taunt of even such as he, Andrew was disposed to take him at his word. To descend towards those rioters, to thrust his head over the balcony. To call to them and say who he was and what he did in the house.
Another moment's reflection, and he decided against that resolve.
"Nay," he said, "nay. They may not know me--there are but one or two who have ever seen my face--a dozen bullets in my body would reward me for my pains and foolhardiness. Also, vagabond, you would be alone with the women. Even though I returned in safety it would be to find them dead at your hands--and you gone! Lead on, show us the way. We go together."
And, touching him none too gently, he urged him forward.
[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
ESCAPE
Andrew shortened his sword at this time, for, since he could not doubt that De Bois-Vallée intended treachery, he meant to slay him at the first moment that treachery became apparent; meant to use the sword as a dagger and, striking down swiftly under the other's left shoulder, end him. That there should be no doubt of his intention, and because his action might not be perceptible in the obscurity around them, he whispered in De Bois-Vallée's ear a word to that effect. Took, too, his hand and placed it against his own where it grasped the blade low down, and ran that hand along it till it touched the point.
"He must know full well now," thought Andrew to himself, "what awaits him if he plays me false."