"Then you will come with me?"

"No, monsieur."

This was madness--and it took time. "Indeed you will come," I said
between my teeth. "And that without more words. Good-by."

But he caught my sleeve. "Then you take me against my will."

I brushed him away. "And against mine, too, if you balk my wishes at
every turn. But I will take you. It is the only chance you have, and
if you are mad enough to refuse it, I must force it on you. Remember,
I shall use force. Now stay by the window, and await my signal. I
shall come when I can."

He followed to the door. "You will not need to use force with me,
monsieur," he said soberly. "If you insist on taking me, I shall
follow your directions, and use what wit I can. But I cannot thank
you, for I cannot feel grateful. You give under protest, and I accept
in the same way. It is a forced companionship. I do not wish to die;
but, after all, it will soon be over, and life has not been sweet. I
would rather risk what meets me here than take help from you, now that
I see you give it grudgingly."

This chilled me, and excuses pressed hot on my tongue. Yet it was
unwise to protest. Why should I wish his gratitude? It would hamper
us both. I had no desire to bind him to me with obligations. I felt
shame for my coldness; but, for once, my head ruled, and I let the
situation stand.

"You are a brave man, monsieur," I said inconsequently. "I know that
you will bear your share to-night."

He laid his hand on the door, and searched me with his sad eyes. "One
last word," he said, "and then I shall bury this for aye. Monsieur, if
I bring you misfortune, I ask you to remember--to remember from now
on--that you took me against my will."

For all my impatience, I had some effort not to smile. He would be a
burden, he might be a nuisance, but he could hardly be a misfortune.
He had a weighty sense of his importance, to use so large a term. But
I would not ridicule him. "I promise," I said.

He held out his hand. "Say that again with your hand in mine. Promise
me that, whatever disaster I bring you, you will remember that I came
against my will."

Somehow that sobered me. "I promise," I repeated, and touching his
hand, and again bidding him be on the watch, I went away.

I had no plans. My mind was cloudy as muddy water, and I sauntered
around the camp looking important and weighty with calculation, but
feeling resourceless and slow. Then I bethought me o