"Martin," Gabriel interrupted, "we must defy the elements, exult in the tempest, laugh at the impossible!"
"Indeed we will!" said Martin-Guerre. "To tell the truth, Monseigneur, since my hanging, the days which have passed over my head have seemed to me like days of grace; and I am not inclined to find fault with the good Lord for that portion of the surplus which He has seen fit to allot to me. Whatever the merchant lets you have over and above the bargain, there is no need to account for; if you do, you are either an ingrate or a fool."
"Well, then, Martin, it's agreed, is it?" said Vicomte d'Exmès; "you will go with me and share my lot?"
"To hell itself, Monseigneur! so long as you don't ask me to set Satan at defiance, for I am a good Catholic."
"Have no fear on that score," said Gabriel. "By going with me you may perhaps endanger your welfare in this world, but not in the next."
"That is all that I care to know," rejoined Martin. "But is there nothing else than my life, Monseigneur, that you ask of me?"
"Yes," said Gabriel, smiling at the heroic ingenuousness of that question; "yes, indeed, Martin-Guerre, there is another great service that you must render me."
"What is it, Monseigneur?"
"I want you, as soon as possible,—this very day, if you can,—to find me a dozen or so companions of your mettle, daring and strong and resolute, who fear neither fire nor sword, who can endure hunger and thirst, heat and cold, who will obey like angels, and fight like devils. Can you do it?"
"That depends. Will they be well paid?" asked Martin.