my enemies. It was all a game; why should I not accept advances at
my enemy's hands, and match dissimulation with dissimulation?

When I refused his arm, he smiled comically, and raised his
shoulders in deprecation.

"You forget your dignity, monsieur," I said presently as we
walked on, Gabord meeting us and lighting us through the passages;
"you voted me a villain, a spy, at my trial!"

"Technically and publicly, you are a spy, a vulgar criminal," he
replied; "privately, you are a foolish, blundering gentleman."

"A soldier, also, you will admit, who keeps his compact with his
enemy."

"Otherwise we should not breakfast together this morning," he
answered. "What difference would it make to this government if our
private matter had been dragged in? Technically, you still would
have been the spy. But I will say this, monsieur, to me you are a
man better worth torture than death."

"Do you ever stop to think of how this may end for you?" I asked
quietly.

He seemed pleased with the question. "I have thought it might be
interesting," he answered; "else, as I said, you should long ago
have left this naughty world. Is it in your mind that we shall
cross swords one day?"