Part 26 (1/2)
”If you could bring La Tournoire unarmed--”
”I will do that,” I said.
De Berquin looked at me steadily for some time. At last he shook his head and said:
”It is a fair bargain, as it now stands, but I see no way of your carrying out your part without putting me in danger of your betraying me. To find La Tournoire, you would have to leave us. Once out of our sight, you would be free to ignore the contract, laugh at me for being so easily gulled, and set La Tournoire and his men on me, which would entirely spoil my plans. Every minute I see more and more the necessity of killing you.”
”But I shall find La Tournoire without going out of your sight,” I said.
De Berquin again became thoughtful. Then he laughed.
”You mean that you would lead us up to his very den, where we should be at the mercy of his men,” he said.
”I have already said that, with one exception, none of his men shall be within a league of where you are to meet him.”
”I do not see how you are going to bring him so far from his men, if you do not go for him.”
”Leave that to me. I shall take you to a place where he will present himself unarmed. Excepting the man who will be with him, not one of his company shall be within a league.”
”Where is the place?” asked De Berquin, still smiling ironically.
”Not far from here. It is a place where you can get also wine and food.”
”And how am I to know that this place is not a trap into which you wish to lead me?”
”You shall walk behind me with drawn sword and dagger. At the slightest suspicious movement or speech that I make, you can easily kill me.”
”That is true. Yet I might lose my own life the next moment. Who knows but that you are merely seeking to sell your life as dearly as possible, or but that you are aiming to gain time in the hope of some unexpected occurrence?”
”Monsieur,” said I, ”we both know that men cannot read the heart. You cannot be sure whether or not I am lying. You indeed take the risk that I wish to lead you where you will have to pay for my life with your own, and that I am trying to gain time; but, at the same time, there is the chance that I intend to keep my word, that I intend to present the Sieur de la Tournoire unarmed, and a league away from all his men but one. Is not that chance worth the risk? Have you not gambled, monsieur?”
From the shrug of De Berquin's shoulders, I knew that he had gambled, and also that my argument had moved him. But another doubt darkened his face.
”And if you do bring an unarmed person before me, how shall I know that it is La Tournoire?” said he.
”He shall tell you so himself.”
”Excellent proof!”
”What man but La Tournoire would risk his life by declaring himself to be that proscribed gentleman?”
”One of his followers might do so, if he thought that he might so throw an enemy off La Tournoire's track.”
”Then the possibility of my deceiving you on that point is but an additional risk you run, in return for the chance of your bagging the real game. Besides, I give you my word of honor that I will truly perform all that I promise.”
”The word of a lackey!” said De Berquin, derisively.
”Have you not yourself described me as an exceptional lackey?”
”Well, I love to take chances. And as you have given me your word, the word of an exceptional lackey, I give you my word, the word of a gentleman, that if you set La Tournoire unarmed before me, with but one of his men at hand, I will give you your life and freedom. But stay! At what time am I to have the pleasure of meeting him?”
”When we hear the stroke of eight from the tower of the church in Clochonne. The wind this evening is from that direction. It is agreed, then?”