"Pardon me for saying it, but you know what would be the consequences of indiscretion."
"And you think yourself still in a position to answer for the discretion of this caballero?"
"Good; act in your own way, then," he continued.
"Listen," said the captain; "I can understand how you, who do not know this gentleman, may entertain secret anxiety; we are not engaged in child's play at this moment, we are risking our lives in a desperate undertaking; each of us has a right to demand of his companion a strict account of his conduct."
"Just so; it appears to me it ought to be so."
"Very well. This account I am going to give you. In spite of himself, and without having wished to do so, Don Émile has discovered secrets of the greatest importance. These secrets, I am convinced, he will keep at the bottom of his heart; but the certainty that I have you do not share: this is your right, and I have nothing to object to in it; but, with the design of merely reassuring you, I will take all the precautions, with respect to my friend, that you can demand. Of course, these precautions will have in them nothing to wound the honour or self-respect of Don Émile, whom I hold above all as my friend."
"I will act with the captain," briskly answered the young man; "and I place myself completely at your disposal as to anything you are pleased to exact from me. I humbly confess that politics cause me a shudder, and that I most sincerely regret to be so unfortunately discovered here, when it would have been so easy for me to have been elsewhere, where, without doubt, I should have been much better off."
The gravity of the Count was not proof against this speech, uttered with such despairing artlessness. He burst into laughter.
"You are a charming companion," said he; "and, although our connection has commenced under such hostile auspices, I hope it will be lasting: that soon you will become one of our friends, and I shall be one of yours."
"That will be a great honour for me, Monsieur le Comte," he answered, bowing.
"Now that you have placed one foot on our secrets, it is necessary that you enter into them entirely."
"It is curious how for the last few days fate has been pleased to pursue me and obstinately to make me a man of politics, when I should be so happy merely to paint pictures--I, who have only come to America for that purpose. It has been a splendid idea, certainly, and I have well chosen my time."