"He scowls like an ogre at me.
"'You're a fool!' he growls. 'No; I was a Road Commissioner. Come, now, will you go with Brand, and win some cool thousands by the speculation?'
"'What are my duties?' I cautiously reply.
"'To keep close by him through all his windings, until—'
"My Mortlake stops.
"'Until?' I venture.
"'Until the dog is killed,' whispers monsieur.
"I start back—I wave the vile insinuation from me.
"'Pardieu!' I scream; 'I am chevalier d'honneur! I pride myself upon my illustrious reputation. Monsieur must seek another colleague.'
"'Idiot!' he roars, 'did I ask you to have anything to do with that? Do I suspect you of enough pluck to crush a snake? No, you fool, I don't. The man will be killed in battle. All I want of you is to hear his private business, so that you can post me up. If you want to make your fortune, say so.'