in a firmer voice, "look at me, I wish it!"
The stranger looked at the engineer, and seemed to be under his power,
as a subject under the influence of a mesmerist. He wished to run
away. But then his countenance suddenly underwent a transformation.
His eyes flashed. Words struggled to escape from his lips. He could no
longer contain himself!... At last he folded his arms, then, in a
hollow voice,--
"Who are you?" he asked Cyrus Harding.
"Castaways, like you," replied the engineer, whose emotion was deep.
"We have brought you here, among your fellow-men."
"My fellow-men!... I have none!"
"You are in the midst of friends."
"Friends!--for me! friends!" exclaimed the stranger, hiding his face
in his hands. "No--never--leave me! leave me!"
Then he rushed to the side of the plateau which overlooked the sea,
and remained there a long time motionless.
Harding rejoined his companions and related to them what had just
happened.
"Yes! there is some mystery in that man's life," said Gideon Spilett,
"and it appears as if he had only re-entered society by the path of
remorse."
"I don't know what sort of a man we have brought here," said the
sailor. "He has secrets--"
"Which we will respect," interrupted Cyrus Harding quickly. "If he has
committed any crime, he has most fearfully expiated it, and in our
eyes he is absolved."
[Illustration: THE STRANGER]
For two hours the stranger remained alone on the shore, evidently
under the influence of recollections which recalled all his past
life--a melancholy life doubtless--and the colonists, without losing
sight of him, did not attempt to disturb his solitude. However, after
two hours, appearing to have formed a resolution, he came to find
Cyrus Harding. His eyes were red with the tears he had shed, but he
wept no longer. His countenance expressed deep humility. He appeared
anxious, timorous, ashamed, and his eyes were constantly fixed on the
ground.
"Sir," said he to Harding, "your companions and you, are you English?"
"No," answered the engineer, "we are Americans."
"Ah!" said the stranger, and he murmured, "I prefer that!"
"And you, my friend?" asked the engineer.
"English," replied he hastily.
And as if these few words had been difficult to say, he retreated to
the beach, where he walked up and down between the cascade and the
mouth of the Mercy, in a state of extreme agitation.
Then, passing one moment close to Herbert, he stopped, and in a
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