"Thou shalt have my word of honor for the present," I said. "Should I see proper to change my mind, thou shalt be informed."
A sardonic smile was upon his face. "Dost thou think that I am a child, to bring thee here, and then let thee escape? Suit thy own fancy; when thou seest fit to retract thy promise, I shall secure thee well. As for thy sword—Francis! come hither."
The priest, who had hovered near during this brief conversation, drew closer to us.
"Go into my cabin, and bring my gold-hilted Toledo blade," DeNortier commanded.
The rogue turned, and walked toward the cabin. In a few minutes he returned, bringing with him a splendid gold-hilted sword.
The Count took it from him, and drawing the long, bright blade from its sheath, turned to me with a bow.
"Allow me to present thee with this sword in lieu of thine own, which was unfortunately lost the night thou wert brought on board. It is of the finest steel, and, I am sure, could be in the hands of no more gallant gentleman."
I bowed in reply, as I took the sword from him.
"I thank thee," I said, "and hope that it will not be dishonored in my hands."
"I am sure it will not," he answered. "But it is time that we were on shore," and he walked forward to where the canoe lay. Together we descended the ladder and stepped into the boat.