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a better friend to thy master than he is to himself, and I will prove it. He shan't remain long in prison: be pacified.—(To .) Let him go: I'll be his warrant that he shall follow us quietly to the house.—Wont you, Sancho?

Me not promise.

But I will trust you without a promise.

Be it so, then; but he must not have the pistol again. (Lets go his hold, while takes the pistol from the ground.)

But where is Charville? Let us go to him.

I cannot. He knows my secret, and is so sternly offended, it is impossible for me to speak to him in his present unaccountable frenzy.

Never mind that. Come along; here is a letter that will make you stand firmly before him.

The long lost papers are found.