"I know; but a devil of indecision pursues me."
"An angel, perhaps."
"Oh, yes. Pity me. My mother stands like a wall I may not pass between me and him. It is horrible to think that she—she is protecting my father's murderer. If I told her, by Heaven! she would bid me go and kill him. You do not know her. She would do it; but, then, who knows what might chance? If I die, she is alone, friendless. I fear to risk it. Mon Dieu, sir, I am afraid!"
"And yet some day you will have to put an end to all this doubt. Comfort yourself with this: Fate, which plays with us will take you in hand. Let it go just now."
"I will try to. I will. If I were as these good Quakers—ah, me, I should sit down,"—and he smiled,—"and thee and thou Providence, and be quiet in the armor of meek unresistance."
"They do kill flies," said the German.
"Ah, I wish then they would attend to the mosquitos," cried De Courval, laughing.
"As to non-resistance, friend, it hath its limitations. Did I tell thee of Daniel Offley? My Pearl told me," and he related the defeat of the blacksmith.
"Insolent," said René.
"No; the man believed that he had a mission. I should like to have his conscience for a week or two, to see how it feels; and, as for non-resistance, canst thou keep a secret?"