between his eyebrows
had deepened greatly. He did not hold himself so erect as formerly,
and his head was bowed.

So absorbed was he in his meditations that he did not hear a knock
at the door, and it had to be repeated. He shuddered and called out,
"Come in!"

It was Basilio, but how altered! If the change that had taken place
in Simoun during those two months was great, in the young student it
was frightful. His cheeks were hollow, his hair unkempt, his clothing
disordered. The tender melancholy had disappeared from his eyes,
and in its place glittered a dark light, so that it might be said
that he had died and his corpse had revived, horrified with what it
had seen in eternity. If not crime, then the shadow of crime, had
fixed itself upon his whole appearance. Simoun himself was startled
and felt pity for the wretch.

Without any greeting Basilio slowly advanced into the room, and in
a voice that made the jeweler shudder said to him, "Senor Simoun,
I've been a wicked son and a bad brother--I've overlooked the murder
of one and the tortures of the other, and God has chastised me! Now
there remains to me only one desire, and it is to return evil for evil,
crime for crime, violence for violence!"

Simoun listened in silence, while Basilio continued; "Four months ago
you talked to me about your plans. I refused to take part in them,
but I did wrong, you have been right. Three months and a half ago
the revolution was on the point of breaking out, but I did not then
care to participate in it, and the movement failed. In payment for
my conduct I've been arrested and owe my liberty to your efforts
only. You are right and now I've come to say to you: put a weapon
in my hand and let the revolution come! I am ready to serve you,
along with all the rest of the unfortunates."

The cloud that had darkened Simoun's brow suddenly disappeared, a ray
of triumph darted from his eyes, and like one who has found what he
sought he exclaimed: "I'm right, yes, I'm right! Right and Justice
are on my side, because my cause is that of the persecuted. Thanks,
young man, thanks! You've come to clear away my doubts, to end my
hesitation."

He had risen and his face was beaming. The zeal that had animated him
when four months before he had explained his plans to Basilio in the
wood of his ancestors reappeared in his countenance like a red sunset
after a cloudy day.

"Yes," he resumed, "the movement failed and many have deserted me
beca