LITMIR.BIZ

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Dutch, with about five Indian dialects, which I picked up at different times."

      "It is a wonder," mused the other, "that, placed as you have been, you should have had the time."

      "Before I became a cabin boy I could read and write a little. After a time I spent every moment of leisure in study."

      "I remember," sighed Durand, "I never met you without you were reading. What will you do for books now?"

      "What book is more interesting than that in which God has written on the plains, on the mountains, on the minutest blade of grass?" replied Oliver with enthusiasm. "Believe me, my friend, the sacred book of Nature has pages too interesting to ever weary us; from them you always find consolation, hope, encouragement. But," he added with a smile, "I have two books with me which, in my opinion, epitomise all great human thoughts, make man better, and even restore his courage, when bowed down by the heavy weight of misfortune. I have these books by heart, and yet I read them over again."

      And he laid on the table two books bound in black morocco.

      "What!" cried the amazed captain, "'The Imitation of Jesus Christ' and 'Montaigne'!"

      "Yes. 'The Imitation of Jesus Christ' and 'Montaigne,' the most complete and sincere books ever written, for they tell the story of doubt and belief. They tell the rival story of all the philosophers who have existed since the creation of the world. With these two books and the magnificent spectacle of Nature around me have I not a whole library?"

      "I cannot make you out. You overwhelm me," said the captain; "but I have not the courage to contradict you. You are too much for me. Go forth, seek the unknown, for alone that will comprehend you. You are one of those whom adversity purifies and renders great; you will often feel inclined to fall by the way in the gigantic combat you are about to undertake against the world. But fail is not a word in your dictionary. Even death, when it comes, will not conquer you."

      "All the more that death is but a transformation, a purification of brutal matter by Divine agency. But," he remarked with a smile, "I think we are talking about very serious matters very foreign to our subject. Let us return to business, for the hour of our departure is rapidly approaching."

      At this moment the tramp of horses was heard, and the captain again ran to the window.

      "Hilloa!" cried the young man; "Another of your mysterious walks! Do explain yourself."

      "All right," he replied, reseating himself, "there is no reason for circumlocution between friends. The truth must be told. I had hoped to lend you money, and I know that had you have required it, you would have borrowed it."

      "Certainly, without hesitation, my friend."

      "Of course, as I find you are very much better off than myself, I withdraw the proposition; but I had already provided your outfit."

      "What can you mean? Provided my outfit!"

      "Yes! I mean to say that there is not a single thing required for your journey that is not ready. Look!"

      And both rising, the captain opened the parcels which had been left on a side table.

      "Look here," said the captain; "this is a real Kentucky rifle, the only gun fit for a hunter; I have tried it. This is a ball pouch, with mould and everything necessary to make others when needed; this is your powder horn, which is full, while here are two small canisters to replenish with; this is a 'necessary,' as we sailors call it, containing spoon, fork, cup, knife, and other trifles; this is a leather belt; this is a game bag, with gaiters, riding boots, a cloak, and four rugs."

      "My dear friend," said Oliver, deeply moved, "you have been ruining yourself."

      "Get out of that and wait a little longer. As you seriously wish to adopt savage life, at all events you must be rigged out accordingly," he added, laughing. "This is a hunting knife, which you put in your belt; these pistols are to be placed in the holsters; that sword is perhaps one of the best cavalry swords I have ever seen. What, more! Oh, yes. This portmanteau, which is neither too large nor too small, in which you will find shirts and other necessaries. Then some pipes, tobacco, flint and steel, and a dozen boxes of preserves, in case you may someday be short of provisions. I think, on my honour, that is all. No, I had forgotten: paper, pens, ink, and pencils. And now my watch as a last remembrance."

      "This I must refuse. Your watch is too useful to yourself."

      "My friend, every time you look at it you will think of me," said the captain.

      And the two Frenchmen embraced.

      "I accept," replied Oliver, with deep emotion.

      "Now I know," continued the captain, "you are really my friend; and now let me see you dressed up as a true traveller, while I put the other things back into their parcels."

      "But before I don my new prairie costume, I have something else to buy," cried Oliver.

      "What!" cried the captain, "I thought surely I had forgotten nothing."

      "Do you think, my dear friend, that I am going to carry all this on my back. I don't want to look like a comic Robinson Crusoe, and, besides, it is more than I could do. I must have a horse."

      The captain burst out laughing.

      "Look out of window, my dear friend," he said, "and then you shall decide whether or not I forgot anything."

      Oliver approached the window, and saw two magnificent horses admirably caparisoned.

      "What do you think of those animals?" asked the captain.

      "They are both splendid; above all, the black one – a true horse of the prairies – a mustang."

      "You seem to know all about it."

      "I have seen them often enough," replied the young man; "the owner of this one should be proud."

      "It is yours," said Durand.

      "What do you mean?"

      "I bought it for you," was the simple reply.

      "Pierre! Pierre! I repeat, you are ruined."

      "Hush; I may as well add that under the saddles I have placed double pockets, which contain many things I have forgotten."

      "But there are two horses," he cried.

      "One for you and one for myself. At all events, I must see you fairly on your way."

      Oliver made no reply, but turned away to dress in order to hide his emotion. When he was in full costume his friend burst out laughing, and told him he looked like a Calabrian bandit.

      "And now which way do we go?" asked the captain.

      "Straight forward," replied Oliver.

      "Yes," cried the captain, "just so, as you are going round the world."

      In two hours, after a hearty and warm shake of the hand, they parted. They were too deeply moved to speak.

      CHAPTER II.

      SAMUEL DICKSON GIVES ADVICE TO HIS BROTHER

      On the same day on which the Patriot anchored in the Bay of Massachusetts an interesting event took place between seven and eight in the morning in a pretty village named Northampton, at no great distance from Boston.

      Everybody was excited. A crowd of men, women, and children pressed around a number of waggons, each drawn by six horses. They stood in front of a brick house, the only inn of the village. Four magnificent saddle horses, with very handsome harness, were held by a young intelligent-looking Negro, who at the same time smoked a short pipe.

      The crowd was very excited, but very decorous and quiet – as a New England crowd always is – waiting simply for an explanation.

      Suddenly the sharp trot of a horse was heard at the entrance of the street. This served to create a new sensation in the crowd.

      "Samuel Dickson!" cried the people; "At last he has come. Now he will make them listen to reason."

      The new arrival was a man of middle age, with a pleasant countenance, delicate and intelligent features, clothed in the dress of a rich farmer, and in those parts was looked up to

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