"I don't understand."
"You will one day, but there is no time for parleying now. First of all, put on my garments, while I dress up in peasants' clothes."
"Why?"
"Why! Because I must be your guide through the mountains. I cannot trust another to do you that service. Do quickly what I tell you."
The priest gave his orders to Mr. Gerzson with imperious brevity, but that gentleman, even in his present situation, could not divest himself of his homely humour, and as he was donning the parson's long cassock and pressed the broad brimmed clerical hat down upon his head, he fell a laughing at the odd figure he cut.
"Deuce take it!" he cried, "I never imagined that I should ever be turned into a parson."
But the priest was angry at the untimely jest and turning savagely upon Squire Gerzson, said: "Sir, this is no time for jesting, we are both of us standing on the very threshold of death."
Gerzson was no coward, nor did he trouble himself very much about death, but the emphatic tone of the parson at least induced him, at last, to take the matter seriously.
"Then according to that you also are in danger on my account?"
"Ask no questions! I knew what would happen when I gave you a night's lodging."