He passed over his pouch in silence.

“When one resteth between His Satanic Majesty and the deep sea it makes small odds at the best which direction he turns.  It becomes merely a matter of taste.  Death,” I continued musingly as I deliberately rammed home a charge into the bowl, “must be about the same to one man as to another, except for matter of temperament; so if you can afford to sit here and welcome its coming, so can I.”

“Do you mean you are sufficiently crazy to remain deliberately and die with me?”

“Certainly.  I pledged your devoted wife I would rescue you, or never return alive myself.  As you stubbornly refuse to listen to reason, this seems to be all that is left me.  Opinions might differ as to which was crazed, but as to that we will probably neither of us ever know.  May I trouble you for a light?”

I leaned forward, coolly helping myself to the burning cigarette he held forth doubtingly between his fingers, and, puffing vigorously, silently resumed my seat.

“My wife, say you?” A fresh interest appeared to sweep over him at the word, overcoming his indifference.  “Did Eloise de Noyan send you here seeking to succor me?”

“It was at her request I came; at her wish I stay,” I answered firmly.

“You knew her?”

“Several years since, when she was scarcely more than a girl; yet she retained sufficient faith to call upon me in extremity.”

He sat staring at me as if he would like to question further.

“The Lord love us, you are a cool fish,” he finally exclaimed, bringing his hand down upon his knee, and speaking with fresh animation in his soft voice.  “What is more, I rather like you.  So Eloise really wishes me to desert the Dons?  Queer choice that, for she would make a lovely widow.  Oh, well, what’s the odds?  ’Tis only the question of a ball in the back to-night, or a ball in the front to-morrow.  If you chance to have a tuck ready for my hand, friend, I ’ll try a dash at the deck just for the sport of it.”

I shook my head emphatically.

“We will attempt passage without flashing of weapons, or not at all.  I grant a quick stroke might win us the open, yet would only serve to rouse the ship; neither of us would ever lift head above the river surface without a bullet in the brain.”

“It is the only way fit for a gentleman.”

“Confound your gentlemen!” I cried, now thoroughly aroused at this ill-chosen trifling with time.  “Either you do as I bid you, or else we settle down without any more ado, to wait the file to-morrow.  How often does the Commandant look in?”

“On the stroke of the ship’s bell.”

“Then, Monsieur, the sooner you arrive at some decision the better.  If indifference is your game, I play it out with you to the end.”  As I spoke I leaned carelessly back against the lower bunk, puffing away at my pipe to get it fairly alight once more.