that it fumes like yonder
punch."
"You are both foolish and ungrateful," said Morok, shrugging his
shoulders; "you held out your glass, and I filled it--and, faith, we
shall drink long and often together yet."
For some moments, Cephyse had not withdrawn her eyes from Morok. "I tell
you, that you have long blown the fire, in which I have burnt my skin,"
resumed Jacques, addressing Morok in a feeble voice, "so that they may
not think I die of cholera. It would look as if I had been frightened by
the part I played. I do not therefore reproach you, my affectionate
friend," added 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
liv
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