I turned again to her, and saw that she expected, that she thirsted for, an answer. But what answer?
"Madame," said I, bowing profoundly, and hoping to cover my bewilderment with a courtly speech, "may I hope that you will fire a good shot for me some day; I should account it an honour above all others if I might be indebted to such a hand for such succour."
She clasped her hands in a great gladness, crying, "Then I may go with you?"
"Go with me!" I cried, looking at her in huge amazement.
"She wants to help you find the child," whispered Marc.
The thought of this white girl among the perils which I saw before me pierced my heart with a strange pang, and in my haste I cried rudely:—
"Nonsense! Impossible! Why, it would be mere madness!"
So bitter was the pain of disappointment which wrung her face that I put out both hands towards her in passionate deprecation.
"Forgive me; oh, forgive me, Madame!" I pleaded. "But how could I bring you into such perils?"
But she caught my hands and would have gone on her knees to me if I had not stayed her roughly.