"But let us have no misunderstanding," said Gabriel. "I have need of your whole being, of your whole life, and all your manhood; are you willing to place yourself in my hands, to postpone your private troubles, and devote yourself solely to my fortunes?"
"Am I willing!" cried Martin; "why, Monseigneur, it is not only my duty to do so, but will be my greatest pleasure. By Saint Martin! I have been separated from you only too long, and I long to make up for lost time! Though there be a legion of Martin-Guerres inside my clothes, never fear, Monseigneur, I will laugh at them all. So long as you are standing there in front of me, I will see nobody but you in the world."
"Brave heart!" said Gabriel. "But you must consider, Martin, that the enterprise in which I ask you to engage is full of danger and pitfalls."
"Basta! I will leap over them!" said Martin, snapping his fingers carelessly.
"We shall hazard our lives a hundred times over, Martin."
"The higher the stake, the better the sport, Monseigneur."
"But this terrible game, once we engage in it, my friend, cannot be laid aside until it is finished."
"Then none but a fine player should take part in it," rejoined the squire, proudly.
"Not so fast!" said Gabriel; "despite all your resolution, you do not appreciate the formidable and extraordinary peril which may attend the almost superhuman conflict into which you and I are about to plunge; and after all, our efforts may be unrewarded,—remember that! Martin, consider all this carefully; the plan which I must carry out almost makes me afraid myself, when I examine it."
"Very good! Danger and I are old acquaintances," said Martin, with a very self-sufficient air; "and when one has had the honor of being hanged—"