"The opinion of a dead lackey does not amount to much," gutturally observed Barbemouche. Doubtless I should have felt the point of his rapier between my shoulders but that he waited on the will of De Berquin. His tone showed that he really had the high regard for his looks that De Berquin's words had implied. It afterward became evident to me that the ugliness of this burly rascal was equalled only by his vanity. "Nor is a dead lackey half as useful as a living one can be," I said, looking De Berquin straight in the eyes. "_Par dieu_! I admit that you have been very useful against me, and that is why I am going to kill you," replied De Berquin. "Would it not be more worthy of a man of intellect, like the Vicomte de Berquin, if I have been useful against him, to make me pay for it by being useful for him?" I said, quietly, without having yet the least idea of what service I should propose doing him in return for my life. "Most interesting of lackeys, how might you be useful to me?" inquired De Berquin, continuing his mood of sinister jocularity. How, indeed? I asked myself. Aloud I answered slowly, in order to have the more time to think: "In your present enterprise, monsieur." "The devil! What do you know of my present enterprise?" he asked, quickly. I saw that I had at least awakened his interest in the idea that I might be worth using alive. "I will tell you," I answered, "if you will first ask this unpleasant person behind me to step aside." "Unpleasant person!" repeated Barbemouche, astonished at my audacity. "You dog, do you speak in such terms of a gentleman?" So he was under the delusion also that he possessed gentility. "Stop, Gilles!" commanded De Berquin. "Go yonder, while I listen to this amusing knave. Let him talk awhile before he dies." Barbemouche sullenly went over to the side of Francois, and stood there glowering at me. It was a relief to know that his sword-point was no longer at my back. "Now, rascal!" said De Berquin to me. "My present enterprise, and how you can be useful to me in it?" "In the first place, monsieur," I began, having no knowledge how I was to finish, "you and your gallant company are doubtless tired, hungry, and thirsty--" An assenting grunt from the tall fellow, and a look of keen interest on the faces of all, showed that I had not spoken amiss. "You are quite lost in these woods," I went on. "You do not know how near you may be to any road or to any habitation, where you might have roof, food, and drink. Heaven, in giving me the pleasure of meeting you, has also done you the kindness of sending one who can guide you to these blessings. That is the first service I can do you." "Very well, you shall do it. I can kill you as well afterwards." "But I will not do it unless I have your promise, on your honor as gentlemen, to give me both my life and my liberty immediately."