Marcas refused.
"I have never before been in a position to keep my promises; here is
an opportunity of proving myself faithful to my word, and you fail
me."
To this Marcas made no reply. The boots were again audible in the
passage on the way to the stairs.
"Marcas! Marcas!" we both cried, rushing into his room. "Why refuse?
He really meant it. His offers are very handsome; at any rate, go to
see the ministers."
In a twinkling, we had given Marcas a hundred reasons. The minister's
voice was sincere; without seeing him, we had felt sure that he was
honest.
"I have no clothes," replied Marcas.
"Rely on us," said Juste, with a glance at me.
Marcas had the courage to trust us; a light flashed in his eye, he
pushed his fingers through his hair, lifting it from his forehead with
a gesture that showed some confidence in his luck and when he had thus
unveiled his face, so to speak, we saw in him a man absolutely unknown
to us--Marcas sublime, Marcas in his power! His mind was in its
element--the bird restored to the free air, the fish to the water, the
horse galloping across the plain.
It was transient. His brow clouded again, he had, it would seem, a
vision of his fate.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53