“Harm come to him with me? With Mocquet? No, indeed! I will answer for it with my own life, that he shall be safe. Harm happen to him, to him, the General’s son? Never, never, never!”
But my poor mother shook her head; I went to her and flung my arms round her neck.
“Mother, dearest,” I cried, “please let me go.”
“You will load his gun for him, then, Mocquet?”
“Have no fear, sixty grains of powder, not a grain more or less, and a twenty to the pound bullet.”
“And you will not leave him?”
“I will stay by him like his shadow.”
“You will keep him near you?”
“Between my legs.”
“I give him into your sole charge, Mocquet.”