"The devil is a very great fool," he said, with a burst of laughter, "to give himself so much trouble about a world which is not worth the damning." And then turning to Esther, he said bitterly: "Do you ask me why I utterly despise mankind, and why I have lost all faith in good? In the course of a long and somewhat tumultuous life, I have found one thing true,--whenever from a pure impulse, I have advocated a noble thought, or done a good deed, I have been hunted like a dog, and whenever from mere egotism, I have defended a bad principle, or achieved an infamous deed, I have been worshiped as a demigod. Yes, it is not for one's bad deeds that we are blamed; it is for the good, that condemnation falls upon us." He strode to the table, and filled a glass to the brim with blood-red Burgundy: "My beautiful Esther, your answer! Which do you choose? On the one hand want and persecution, on the other, position and power,--yes, on the one hand the life of the hunted pariah; on the other, sway of an absolute queen." He drained the glass, without removing it from his lips; then advancing to the sofa, he took her hands within his own, and raised her gently to her feet. "Esther, it is time to make your choice," he said, bending the force of his gaze upon that beautiful countenance: "which will you be? Your brother's slave, hunted at every step, and even doomed to be the pariah of the social world,--or, will you be the ward of Gabriel Godlike, the beautiful heiress of his West Indian friend, the unrivaled queen of life at the capital." Esther felt his burning gaze, and said with downcast eyes,--her voice very low and faint--"And in return for this generous protection, what am I to give you?" "Can you ask, my child?" he said, and pressed her hand within his own.--"You will be my friend, my counselor, my companion." "Companion?" "Wearied with the toils of state, the wear and tear of the world,--in your presence, I will seek oblivion of the world and its cares. With you I will grow young again, and--who knows--but guided by you, I shall, even at three-score, learn to hope in man? Your heart is fresh, your intellect clear and vivid: I shall often seek your counsel in affairs of state, for I have learned, that in nine cases out of ten, it is better to rely upon the _intuitions_ of woman, than upon the careful logic of the shrewdest man. In a word, dear child, you will be my companion,--my divinity"-- "Divinity?" "Yes,--divinity! Tradition says that Lucretia Borgia was the most wondrously beautiful woman of all her age; and if yonder canvas does not flatter her, tradition does not lie. Now, you are living and more beautiful than Lucretia Borgia, without her crimes. Yes, more lovely than Lucretia, and,--pure as heaven's own light." "Pure as heaven's own light?"