"Charlot, I saved your life once, two months ago, when, as you were chasing a goat, you were on the point of rolling over a precipice, and I, running after you, succeeded in reaching you my stick and pulling you away from the hole into which you were about to fall."
"I haven’t forgotten it," replied the old shepherd in a low voice.
"True," rejoined the vagabond, "since that time you have shown the most absolute devotion to me; when I had no bread, I came here, and I was sure that you would share with me all that you possessed. That is well, Charlot; you are grateful, you have treated me better than many wealthy gentlemen have done, and many women of the world; but that is not enough; to-day you must allow me to make use of your house as I choose.—Here is money for it—take all that you wish."
The vagabond spread out before the old shepherd’s eye the money that he had taken from Isaure’s house; Charlot looked at it indifferently and replied simply:
"If I haven’t any house, where shall I live?"
"You will live here as always,—indeed, that is necessary; the girl will occupy the second house, and I shall sleep here, upstairs. But you must swear to me on your life, that you will tell no one that you have anybody living with you."
"Who should I tell? I never see anybody."
"But if by chance any travellers should come here, I shall retire at once to the house behind, and you will never disclose the existence of that secret dwelling."
"No, no!"
"Do you swear it?"