Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the peopleEverett-Green, Evelyn
General
Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the people
Everett-Green, Evelyn
West Country (England) -- Fiction
This was not by any means the spirit Eustace had desired to kindle in
his disciple; but, after all, might not such sentiments be but the
natural ebullition of enthusiasm in one who was young, untrained, and
ardent? Certainly it was preferable in his eyes to apathy, and he was
not disposed to strain the relations newly set up between them by
opposing such sanguinary statements.
“The wrongs of humanity do indeed set up a strong sense of righteous
indignation,” he said quietly; “but, believe me, the fierce and
sanguinary revolutions of history have not had half the lasting effects
of the bloodless ones accomplished by nations within themselves, by
the accord of all classes concerned. That is what we are now bent upon
striving to accomplish. We want your help, Tresithny, but not all the
bloodthirsty eagerness you are disposed to give us. You must temper
your zeal with discretion. Have you any personal cause to hate the
so-called upper classes as you do?”
The young man’s face was so dark and stern that Eustace almost repented
of his question.
“Have I?--have I? Have I not, indeed! The upper classes! Ay, indeed,
they are well called! Oh, can I but help to hurl them down to the dust,
my life will not have been lived for nothing!”
Eustace looked earnestly at him.
“Can you not tell me what you mean, Tresithny? Believe me, I would be
your friend, if you would permit it. I have seen no one since I came
here in whom I take so warm an interest.”
There was this about Eustace that always made him popular wherever he
went, and that was his perfect sincerity. When he spoke words like
these, it was obvious that he meant them, and those whom he addressed
felt this by instinct. Saul did so, and the fierce darkness died out
of his face. He turned and looked into Eustace’s eyes, and Eustace
returned the glance steadily, holding out his hand as he did so.
“I mean what I say, Tresithny,” he said, with a smile. “If you will
have me for a friend, I will be worthy of your confidence.”
And then Saul, by a sudden impulse, put his hand into that of the Duke
of Penarvon’s heir, and the compact was sealed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account