"Make me that offer, and I accept." Yeux-gris turned to him with that little hauteur he assumed occasionally. "You are helpless, my cousin. You have passed your word." "Aye. I leave him to you." His sullen eyes told me it was no new-born tenderness for me that prompted his surrender. Nor had I, truth to tell, any great faith in the sacredness of his word. Yet I believed he would let me be. For it was borne in upon me that, despite his passion and temper, he had no wish to quarrel with Yeux-gris. Whether at bottom he loved him or in some way dreaded him, I could not tell; but of this my fear-sharpened wits were sure: he had no desire to press an open breach. He was honestly ashamed of his henchman's low deed; yet even before that his judgment had disliked the quarrel. Else why had he struck me with the hilt of the sword? "I leave him to you," he repeated. "Do as you choose. If you deem his life a precious thing, cherish it. When did you learn a taste for insolence, Étienne? Time was when you were touchy on that score." "Time never was when I did not love courage." "Oh, it is courage!" With a sneer he turned away. "Gervais," said Yeux-gris, "have the kindness to unlock the door." Gervais wheeled around, his face an angry question. Yeux-gris answered it with cold politeness: "That Félix Broux may pass out." "By Heaven, he shall not!" "You gave your word you would leave him to me. Did you lie?" "I do leave him to you!" Gervais thundered. "I would slit his impudent throat; but since you love him, you may have him to eat out of your plate and sleep in your bosom. I will put up with it. But go out of that door till the thing is done, sang dieu! he shall not!" "If he goes straight to the duke, what then? He will say he found us living in my house. What harm? We are no felons. Let him say it." "And put Lucas on his guard?" returned Gervais. He was angry, yet he spoke with evident attempt at restraint. "Put Lucas on the trail? He is wary as a cat. Let him get wind of us here, and he will never let us catch him." "Well," said Yeux-gris, reluctantly, "it is true. And though I will not have the boy harmed, he shall stay here. I will not put a spoke in the wheel. We will take no risks till Lucas is shent. The boy shall be held prisoner. And afterward--" "I will come myself and let him out," said Gervais, and laughed. I glanced at my protector, not liking to think of that moment, whenever it might be, "afterward." He went up to Gervais. "My cousin, are we friends or foes? For, faith! you treat me strangely like a foe." "We are friends." "I am your friend, since it is in your cause that I am here. I have stood at your shoulder like a brother--you cannot deny it."