"Yes; and if the officers can hold the Guienne regiment within barracks, and the Mayor does not hoist the flag, calling them out, and the Calvinists do not surprise the Arsenal--I think we may be able to do so."
"But the chances are?"
"Against us. The more need, Monsieur"--for the first time he turned and looked at me with a sort of dark pride glowing in his face--"of a man! For--do you know what we are fighting for down there? France! France!" he continued bitterly, and letting his emotion appear, "and I have a few hundred cutthroats and rascals and shavelings to do the work, while all the time your fine gentlemen lie safe and warm across the frontier, waiting to see what will happen! And I run risks, and they hold the stakes! I kill the bear, and they take the skin. They are safe, and if I fail I hang like Favras! Faugh! It is enough to make a man turn patriot and cry 'Vive la Nation!'"
He did not wait for my answer, but impatiently snatching up the lantern, he made a sign to me to follow him, and led the way down the passage. He had said not a word of my presence in the house, of my position, of Mademoiselle St. Alais, or how he meant to deal with me; and at the door, not knowing what was in his mind, I touched his shoulder and stopped him.
"Pardon me," I said, with as much dignity as I could assume, "but I should like to know what you are going to do with me, Monsieur. I need not tell you that I did not enter this house as a spy----"
"You need tell me nothing," he answered, cutting me short with rudeness. "And for what I am going to do with you, it can be told in half a dozen words. I am going to keep you by me, that if the worst comes of this--in which event I am not likely to see the week out--you may protect Mademoiselle de St. Alais and convey her to a place of safety. To that end your commission shall be restored to you; I have it safe. If, on the other hand, we hold our own, and light the fire that shall burn up these cold-blooded pedants là bas, then, M. le Vicomte--I shall have a word to say to you. And we will talk of the matter as gentlemen."
For a moment I stood dumb with astonishment. We were at the door of the little staircase--by which I had descended--when he said this; and as he spoke the last word, he turned, as expecting no answer, and opened it, and set his foot on the lowest stair, casting the light of the lantern before him. I plucked him by the sleeve, and he turned, and faced me.
"M. Froment!" I muttered. And then for the life of me I could say no more.
"There is no need for words," he said grandly.
"Are you sure--that you know all!" I muttered.