“Do not fail, when you have done your errand, to assure his Grace of my undying gratitude.”
The man in red looked at him in amazement. “Your—gratitude!”
“Yes, to be sure, my friend; for it will probably be out of my power to thank him in person very soon.”
“Probably,” dryly replied the man.
“And you must feel,” added Musdœmon, “that I owe him a deep debt of gratitude for such a service.”
“By the cross of the repentant thief,” cried the man, with a coarse laugh, “to hear you, one would think that the chancellor was doing something quite unusual for you!”
“Well, to be sure, it is no more than strict justice.”
“Strict justice! that is the word; but you acknowledge that it is justice. It is the first admission of the kind that I ever heard in the six-and-twenty years that I have followed my profession. Come, sir, we waste our time in idle talk; are you ready?”
“I am,” said the delighted Musdœmon, stepping to the door.
“Wait; wait a minute,” exclaimed the man in red, stooping to lay his coil of rope on the floor.