"Lastly, Monseigneur, I am about to contract to-night a considerable debt to a fisherman of this coast, named Anselme. If Anselme dies with me, I have written to Master Elyot, who has charge of my property, to provide for the maintenance and well-being of his family, deprived as they will be of his support. But for greater security, Monseigneur, I would be deeply obliged if you would see that my orders are executed." "It shall be done," said the duke. "Is that all?" "It is, Monseigneur," Gabriel replied. "But if you never see me again, think of me sometimes, I beg, with a little regret, and speak of me as one for whom you had some esteem, whether it be to the king, who will surely be glad to hear of my death, or to Madame de Castro, who may perhaps be grieved. Now I will detain you no longer, but will bid you hire well, Monseigneur." The Duc de Guise rose to go. "Pray banish your gloomy thoughts, my friend," said he. "I leave you, so that you may be perfectly free to go on with your mysterious project; but I confess that until eight o'clock to-morrow, I shall be very anxious and shall find it hard to sleep. But it will be principally because of the obscurity which hides your operations from me. Something tells me that I shall see you again; therefore I will not say adieu." "Thanks for the augury, Monseigneur," said Gabriel; "for if you see me again, it will be in Calais when it shall have become a French city." "And in that event," said the duke, "you can fairly boast of having rescued the honor of France, and mine as well, from bitter peril." "Small craft, Monseigneur, sometimes save large men-of-war," said Gabriel, bowing. The Duc de Guise, at the door of the tent, gave Gabriel's hand a cordial grasp, and withdrew in deep thought to his headquarters. CHAPTER XVII OBSCURI SOLA SUB NOCTE When Gabriel returned to his seat after escorting Monsieur de Guise to the door, he made a sign to Martin-Guerre, who at once left his occupation and went out, seeming to need no further instructions. The squire came back after about fifteen minutes, accompanied by a pale, emaciated individual, whose clothes were almost falling from his body. Martin approached his master, who was again absorbed in thought. The other occupants of the tent were playing or sleeping, as their fancy dictated. "Monseigneur," said Martin-Guerre, "this is our man." "Oh, yes!" said Gabriel; "so you are Anselme the fisherman, of whom Martin-Guerre has spoken to me?" he added, turning to the new-comer. "Yes, Monseigneur, I am Anselme the fisherman," was the reply. "Do you know the service in which we desire your aid?" asked Vicomte d'Exmès. "Your squire has told me, Monseigneur; and I am ready." "Martin-Guerre ought also to have told you," continued Gabriel, "that in this expedition your life will be in danger as will our own." "Oh," rejoined the fisherman, "he had no need to tell me that; for I knew it as well as he, or even better."