Once there, Morgan took off his cloak and laid his pistols on the table.
"What are you doing ?" asked Roland.
"Faith! with your permission," replied Morgan, gayly, "I am making myself comfortable." "But those pistols you have just laid aside--" "Ah! did you think I brought them for you ?" "For whom then ?" "Why, that damned police! You can readily imagine that I am not disposed to let citizen Fouche lay bold of me, without burning the mustache of the first of his minions who lays hands on me." "But once here you feel you have nothing to fear ?" "The deuce!" exclaimed the young man; "I have your word." "Then why don't you unmask ?" "Because my face only half belongs to me; the other half belongs to my companions.

Who knows if one of us being recognized might not drag the others to the guillotine?
For of course you know, colonel, we don't hide from ourselves that that is the price of our game!" "Then why risk it ?" "Ah! what a question.

Why do you venture on the field of battle, where a bullet may plow through your breast or a cannon-ball lop off your head ?" "Permit me to say that that is different.

On the battlefield I risk an honorable death." "Ah! do you suppose that on the day I get my head cut off by the revolutionary triangle I shall think myself dishonored?
Not the least in the world.

I am a soldier like you, only we can't all serve our cause in the same way.