"And I tell you—I," mimicked Rosette saucily, "with the weight of my twelve years behind me—that I have lived through so many perils, I should be able to live through another!"
"'Tis just that!" said the farmer angrily. "You have no prudence; you take too many risks; you expose yourself to fearful dangers." He shuddered.
"What you fear is that I shall expose you," returned Rosette cheerfully. "Hé, well! a man can but die once, Farmer Paulet."
"That is just it!" exclaimed the farmer vivaciously. "If I had six lives I should not mind dying five times; but having only the one, I cannot afford to lose it! And, besides, I have my wife to think of."
Rosette meditated a moment. "Better late than never, Farmer Paulet. I have heard tell you never thought of that before." The sharp little face softened. "She is a good woman, your wife!"
"True, true! She is a good woman, and you would not care for her to be widowed. Consider if it would not be better if I placed you in safety elsewhere."
"Jean Paulet! Jean Paulet!" mocked Rosette; "I doubt if I should do your wife a kindness if I saved your skin."
Jean Paulet wagged a forefinger at her angrily. "You will come to a bad end with a tongue like that! If it were not for the respect I owe to Monsieur de Marigny——"
"Marigny's pistol!" interrupted Rosette.
"Ah, bah! What is to prevent my abandoning you?" asked the farmer furiously.