"No, no," he answered. "Coralie in one scale and I in the other? I'd rather die. Besides, Coralie's hiding-place is where the gold is. No, never! I may just as well die." "Kill him then, captain," said Don Luis, intervening. "Kill him, since he prefers it." Once more the thought of immediate murder and revenge sent the red blood rushing to the officer's face. But the same hesitation unnerved him. "No, no," he said, in a low voice, "I can't do it." "Why not?" Don Luis insisted. "It's so easy. Come along! Wring his neck, like a chicken's, and have done with it!" "I can't." "But why? Do you dislike the thought of strangling him? Does it repel you? And yet, if it were a Boche, on the battlefield . . ." "Yes . . . but this man . . ." "Is it your hands that refuse? The idea of taking hold of the flesh and squeezing? . . . Here, captain, take my revolver and blow out his brains." Patrice accepted the weapon eagerly and aimed it at old Siméon. The silence was appalling. Old Siméon's eyes had closed and drops of sweat were streaming down his livid cheeks. At last the officer lowered his arm: "I can't do it," he said. "Nonsense," said Don Luis. "Get on with the work." "No. . . . No. . . ." "But, in Heaven's name, why not?" "I can't." "You can't? Shall I tell you the reason? You are thinking of that man as if he were your father." "Perhaps it's that," said the officer, speaking very low. "There's a chance of it, you know." "What does it matter, if he's a beast and a blackguard?" "No, no, I haven't the right. Let him die by all means, but not by my hand. I haven't the right." "You have the right." "No, it would be abominable! It would be monstrous!" Don Luis went up to him and, tapping him on the shoulder, said, gravely: "You surely don't believe that I should stand here, urging you to kill that man, if he were your father?" Patrice looked at him wildly: "Do you know something? Do you know something for certain? Oh, for Heaven's sake . . . !" Don Luis continued: "Do you believe that I would even encourage you to hate him, if he were your father?" "Oh!" exclaimed Patrice. "Do you mean that he's not my father?"