Blaise stood for a
time looking oven. We heard a series of dull concussions, a sound of the
flight of detached small stones, and then nothing.
"God giveth the battle to the strong!" said Blaise, and he came away from
the precipice.
De Berquin shrugged his shoulders, and turned again to me.
"As I said, monsieur," he began, "I have come here to do you a service."
"Indeed!" said I, coldly, choosing to assume indifference and ignorance.
"I knew not that I was in need of any."
"Your need of it is all the greater for that," said De Berquin, quietly.
"Monsieur, I would hinder some one from doing you a foul deed, though to
do so I must rob that person of your esteem."
"Speak clearly, M. de Berquin," said I, thinking that he was taking the
wrong way to get my confidence. "It is impossible that any one having my
esteem should need hindrance from a foul deed."
De Berquin stood perfectly still and looked me straight in the
face, saying:
"Is it a foul deed to betray a man into the hands of his enemies?"
"Yes," said I, thoughtfully, wondering that he should try to begin that
very act by accusing some one else of intending it.
"Then, monsieur," he went on, "look to yourself."
But I looked at him instead, with some amazement at the assurance with
which he continued to face me.
"And what man of my following would you accuse of intending to betray
me?" I asked.
Pages:
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291