“You are not dead,—Mr.—Armitage; but your father—?”
“My father is dead, Oscar.”
“He was a good man,” said the soldier.
“Yes; he was a good man,” repeated Armitage gravely. “I am alive, and yet I am dead, Oscar; do you grasp the idea? You were a good friend when we were lads together in the great forest. If I should want you to help me now—”
The man jumped to his feet and stood at attention so gravely that Armitage laughed and slapped his knee.
“You are well taught, Sergeant Oscar! Sit down. I am going to trust you. My affairs just now are not without their trifling dangers.”
“There are enemies—yes?” and Oscar nodded his head solemnly in acceptance of the situation.
“I am going to trust you absolutely. You have no confidants—you are not married?”
“How should a man be married who is a soldier? I have no friends; they are unprofitable,” declared Oscar solemnly.
“I fear you are a pessimist, Oscar; but a pessimist who keeps his mouth shut is a good ally. Now, if you are not afraid of being shot or struck with a knife, and if you are willing to obey my orders for a few weeks we may be able to do some business. First, remember that I am Mr. Armitage; you must learn that now, and remember it for all time. And if any one should ever suggest anything else—”