nio.

"Aye, a fortune--at least, fifty pistoles. That is a fortune to some of
us."

Arsenio whistled. "Tell me more," said he.

Garnache rose with the air of one about to depart.

"I must think of it," said he, and he made shift to go. But the other's
hand fell with a clenching grip upon his arm.

"Of what must you think, fool?" said he. "Tell me this service you have
been offered. I have a conscience that upbraids me. If you refuse these
fifty pistoles, why should not I profit by your folly?"

"There would not be the need. Two men are required for the thing I speak
of, and there are fifty pistoles for each. If I decide to undertake the
task, I'll speak of you as a likely second."

He nodded gloomily to his companion, and shaking off his hold he set out
to cross the yard. But Arsenio was after him and had fastened again upon
his arm, detaining him.

"You fool!" said he; "you'd not refuse this fortune?"

"It would mean treachery," whispered Garnache.

"That is bad," the other agreed, and his face fell. But remembering what
Garnache had said, he was quick to brighten again. "Is it to these
folk here at Condillac?" he asked. Garnache nodded. "And they would
pay--these people that seek our service would pay you fifty pistoles?"

"They seek my service only, as yet. They might seek yours were I to
speak for you."

"And you will, compatriot. You will, will you not? We are comrades, we
are friends, and we are fellow-countrymen in a strange land. There is
nothing I would not do for you, Battista. Look, I would die for you if
there should come the need! Body of Bacchus! I would. I am like that
when I love a man."

Garnache patted his shoulder. "You are a good fellow, Arsenio."

"And you will speak for me?"

"But you do not know the nature of the service," said Garnache. "You may
refuse it when it is definitely offered you."

"Refuse fifty pistoles? I should deserve to be the pauper that I am
if such had been my habits. Be the service what it may, my conscience
pricks me for serving Condillac. Tell me how the fifty pistoles are to
be earned, and you may count upon me to put my hand to anything."

Garnache was satisfied. But he told Arsenio no more that day, beyond
assuring him he would speak for him and let him know upon the morrow.
Nor on the morrow, when they returned to the subject at Arsenio's
eager demand, did Garnache tell him all, or even that the service was
mademoiselle's. Instead he pretended that it