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"
"That is the same thing. I cannot. I'll hold my tongue, but I
will not - I dare not - help you."
Andre-Louis looked a moment into that sullen, resolute face, and
understood. This man, living under the shadow of La Tour d'Azyr,
dared exercise no will that might be in conflict with the will of
his dread lord.
"Fresnel," he said, quietly, "if, as you say, the gallows claim me,
the thing that has brought me to this extremity arises out of the
shooting of Mabey. Had not Mabey been murdered there would have
been no need for me to have raised my voice as I have done. Mabey
was your friend, I think. Will you for his sake lend me the little
help I need to save my neck?"
The man kept his glance averted, and the cloud of sullenness
deepened on his face.
"I would if I dared, but I dare not." Then, quite suddenly he became
angry. It was as if in anger he sought support. "Don't you
understand that I dare not? Would you have a poor man risk his life
for you? What have you or yours ever done for me that you should ask
that? You do not cross to-night in my ferry.


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