Morano, who knew when speech was good, was silent now, and blew on the smouldering end of the log he carried and gathered a handful of twigs and shook the rain off them; and soon had a small fire again, warming the bacon.  He had nothing to say which bacon could not say better.  And when Rodriguez had finished up the bacon he carefully reconsidered the case of Morano, and there were points in it which he had not thought of before.  He reflected that for the execution of knaves a suitable person was provided.  He should perhaps give Morano up to la Garda.  His next thought was where to find la Garda.  And easily enough another thought followed that one, which was that although on foot and still some way behind four of la Garda were trying to find him.  Rodriguez’ mind, which was looking at life from the point of view of a judge, changed somewhat at this thought.  He reflected next that, for the prevention of crime, to make Morano see the true nature of his enormity so that he should never commit it again might after all be as good as killing him.  So what we call his better nature, his calmer judgment, decided him now to talk to Morano and not to kill him:  but Morano, looking back upon this merciful change, always attributed it to fried bacon.

“Morano,” said Rodriguez’ better nature, “to offend the laws of Chivalry is to have against you the swords of all true men.”

“Master,” Morano said, “that were dreadful odds.”

“And rightly,” said Rodriguez.

“Master,” said Morano, “I will keep those laws henceforth.  I may cook bacon for you when you are hungry, I may brush the dust from your cloak, I may see to your comforts.  This Chivalry forbids none of that.  But when I see anyone trying to kill you, master; why, kill you he must, and welcome.”

“Not always,” said Rodriguez somewhat curtly, for it struck him that Morano spoke somehow too lightly of sacred things.

“Not always?” asked Morano.

“No,” said Rodriguez.

“Master, I implore you tell me,” said Morano, “when they may kill you and when they may not, so that I may never offend again.”

Rodriguez cast a swift glance at him but found his face so full of puzzled anxiety that he condescended to do what Morano had asked, and began to explain to him the rudiments of the laws of Chivalry.

“In the wars,” he said, “you may defend me whoever assails me, or if robbers or any common persons attack me, but if I arrange a meeting with a gentleman, and any knave basely interferes, then is he damned hereafter as well as accursed now; for, the laws of Chivalry being founded on true religion, the penalty for their breach is by no means confined to this world.”

“Master,” replied Morano thoughtfully, “if I be not damned already I will avoid those fires of Hell; and none shall kill you that you have not chosen to kill you, and those that you choose shall kill you whenever you have a mind.”