d he, with a sardonic smile; "you dug my grave gayly--and
sometimes, when, seeing the great dark hole, into which I was about to
fall, I drew back a step--but you, my excellent friend, still pushed
me forward, saying, 'Go on, my boy, go on!'--and I went on--and here I
am--"

So saying, Sleepinbuff burst into a bitter laugh, which sent an icy
shudder through the spectators of this scene.

"My good fellow," said Morok, coolly, "listen to me, and follow my
advice."

"Thank you! I know your advice--and, instead of listening to you, I
prefer speaking to my poor Cephyse. Before I go down to the moles, I
should like to tell her what weighs on my heart."

"Jacques," replied Cephyse, "do not talk so. I tell you, you shall not
die."

"Why, then, my brave Cephyse, I shall owe my life to you," returned
Jacques, in a tone of serious feeling, which surprised the spectators.
"Yes," resumed he, "when I came to myself, and saw you so poorly clad,
I felt something good about my heart--do you know why?--it was because
I said to myself, 'Poor girl! she has kept her word bravely; she has
chosen to toil, and want, and suffer--rather than take another love--who
would have given her what I gave her as long as I could'--and that
thought, Cephyse, refreshed my soul. I needed it, for I was burning--and
I burn still," added he, clinching his fists with pain; "but that made
me happy--it did me good--thanks, my good, brave Cephyse--yes, you are
good and brave--and you were right; for I never loved any but you in the
wide world; and if, in my degradation, I had one thought that raised me
a little above the filth, and made me regret that I was not better--the
thought was of you! Thanks then, my poor, dear love," said Jacques,
whose hot and shining eyes were becoming moist; "thanks once again," and
he reached his cold hand to Cephyse; "if I die, I shall die happy--if I
live, I shall live happy also. Give me your hand, my brave Cephyse!--you
have acted like a good and honest creature."

Instead of taking the hand which Jacques offered her, Cephyse, still
kneeling, bowed her head, and dared not raise her eyes to her lover.

"You don't answer," said he, leaning over towards the young girl; "you
don't take my hand--why is this?"

The unfortunate creature only answered by stifled sobs. Borne down with
shame, she held herself in so humble, so supplicating an attitude, that
her forehead almost touched the feet of her lover.

Amazed at the silence a