Craftall had by this time reached the door. Instead of drawing it open, however, he proceeded to lock it, and then, with a quiet smile on his face, turned to meet Bernard again. As he did so, Bernard held up the crucifix, and his smile, which had risen in exultation, passed into a quick spasm.
“I hold thee mine!” cried Bernard. “But the Spirit is upon me! The fire thou wot’st of, that makes saints, is blistering my very heart. I might do thee harm: so I’ll leave thee now.”
Thus speaking, he made towards the outer door. Before he could reach it, however, Craftall, nerved by despair, sprang after him, and fastened on his arm.
“Mercy! mercy!” he said.
“Mercy to a Papist!” cried Bernard. “Ha! ha!”
And, with a slight effort, he threw the supplicant from him, and dashed into the street.
CHAPTER IX.
True courage, distinguished from that which is called forth by particular occasions, and the operation of a powerful and headlong excitement, comprehends not only a contempt for danger, but self-possession under surprise. To meet an expected peril, for which we have had time to prepare, is a trial only for the most ordinary minds; but to retain firmness and judgment under a shock, attended by circumstances of which we could have no possible anticipation, and which render the danger more striking and formidable, undoubtedly requires a brave and intrepid spirit.