"They are, Sir!" he cried, clenching both fists. "It is a blow. I am a poor man. Had you let me do for you what I could have done, you would have requited me. Of that I am sure. Yes, Sir; I am not so ignorant of human nature as not to tell generosity when I see it; and yours is a generous mind. It made me this promise: it said, 'Martelli, serve me well, advance my schemes, impart the knowledge and the power your experience and learning can inspire, and when I have achieved the ends I covet I will reward you.' That is what you told me, Sir." "But what did you expect?" "As much as it was in your power to confer. You would not have forgotten the man who gave you help when you needed it. You might have made me your secretary--your agent--your amanuensis. You would have invented some post for me to fill--you would, at least, have rescued me from a life of drudgery. But now, I am forced back again upon my pitiful calling--teaching at schools, soliciting pupils, and starving as a teacher!" "I see no necessity. Have I dismissed you?" "I dismiss myself!" he cried, standing up and striking his chest with his fist. I was impressed by his vehemence; at once pained and made curious by his manner. "At all events," I said, "if you go, you go of your own accord." "Of course," he replied sarcastically. "But at the same time you will allow me to say that I think you foolish for exhibiting so much impatience." "Impatience!" he exclaimed, with a sharp laugh. "Oh, no! I am not impatient. But, Sir, it is not pleasant to be given to drink of a wine that is dashed from your lips after you have tasted enough to like its sweetness." "But, my dear fellow, nobody _has_ dashed the wine away, that I can see." "You have! you have!" he cried, with a grin of anger. "I? You are dreaming." "_Sacramento!_ don't tell me I dream!" "I shall have to tell you something worse," said I, getting up; "if you don't moderate your temper, I shall have to tell you that you are mad." "That it should come to this!" he muttered, looking up, as though he apostrophised the air. "You speak English fluently," said I; "let me entreat you to express yourself intelligibly that I may understand your grievance." He left me; walked to the edge of the lawn, returned, approached close to me, and said, "It is your intention, Sir, to marry, is it not?" "What of that?" "When, Sir, do you marry?" "I shall probably make the lady an offer to-morrow," I answered, compressing my lips to disguise a smile. "Ah!" He nodded fiercely, walked once more to the edge of the lawn, and returned. "You are serious, Sir? You really mean to marry?" I could not help laughing out, as I answered, "Yes." "Then, Sir, pay me what you owe me, and let me go." "Do you wish to leave at once?" "At once!" he cried. "Very well; come with me to the library. I will reckon what I am in your debt and pay you."