"For the love of God," cried the Schoolmaster, in a suppliant tone, "let some person lead me forth! What will become of me in the streets? Oh, in mercy kill me! take my miserable life! but do not turn me out thus wretched, thus helpless! Kill, for pity's sake, and save me from being crushed beneath the first vehicle I encounter!" "No! Live and repent." "Repent!" shouted the Schoolmaster, in a fearful voice. "Never! I will live for vengeance,--for deep and fearful vengeance!" And again he threw himself from the chair, holding his clenched fists in a menacing attitude towards the ceiling, as though calling upon Heaven to witness the fixedness of his resolve. In an instant his step faltered; he again hesitated, as though fearful of a thousand dangers. "Alas! alas! I cannot proceed,--I dare not move! And I, lately so strong and so dreaded by all,--look at me now! Yet no one pities me,--no one cares for me,--no hand is stretched out to help the wretched blind upon his lonely way!" It is impossible to express the stupefaction and alarm expressed by the countenance of the Chourineur during this terrible scene. His rough features exhibited the deepest compassion for his fallen foe, and approaching Rodolph, he said, in a low tone: "M. Rodolph, he was an accomplished villain, and has only got what he richly deserves; he wanted to murder me a little while ago, too. But he is now blind,--he does not even know how to find his way out of the house, and he may be crushed to death in the streets; may I lead him to some safe place, where, at least, he may remain quiet for a time?" "Nobly said!" replied Rodolph, kindly pressing the hand of the Chourineur. "Go, my worthy fellow! Go with him, by all means!" The Chourineur approached the Schoolmaster and laid his hand on his shoulder; the miserable villain started. "Who touches me?" asked he, in a husky voice. "It is I." "I? Who? Who are you,--friend or foe?" "The Chourineur." "And you have come to avenge yourself now you find I am incapable of protecting myself, I suppose?" "Nothing of the sort. Here, take my arm; you cannot find the way out by yourself; let me lead you--there--" "You, Chourineur? You!" "Yes, for all you doubt it; but you vex me by not seeming to like my help. Come, hold tight by me; I will see you all right before I leave you." "Are you quite sure you do not mean me some harm? that you are only laying a trap to ensnare me?" "I am not such a scoundrel as to take advantage of your misfortune. But let us begone. Come on, old fellow; it will be daylight directly." "Day! which I shall never more behold! Day and night to me are henceforward all the same!" exclaimed the Schoolmaster, in such piteous tones that Rodolph, unable longer to endure this scene, abruptly retired, followed by David, who first dismissed his two assistants.