Roland opened his mouth: he wanted to cry out: Take off the blankets! Take off the blankets, and hide the shame with them! Let the horses all spring out into the open air. We have no more right over them, they are no longer ours! But he could not utter the words.
Then he looked up at the green-houses, at the trees, as if he wanted to ask them all if they knew to whom they belonged.
He asked Manna to go into the stable with him. He looked into the servants' faces as if begging respect from them, and he thanked them for saluting him, and for asking him what his commands were. Men still saluted him, men still obeyed him! In the stable, he caressed his pony and wept upon his neck.
"O Puck! shall you ever carry such a light-hearted youth again?"
The dogs were jumping round him; he nodded to them, and said sorrowfully to Manna:—
"The brutes are altogether the happiest creatures in the world; they inherit nothing from their parents, nothing but life—no house, no garden, no money, no clothes. Ah, my good Puck, what a fine long mane you have!"
There was something rising almost to frenzy in Roland's thought and speech, as, tugging at the beast's long mane, he exclaimed:—
"If slaves could not speak, could not pray, they would be happy like you, and like you, my faithful dogs!"
Manna was becoming uneasy at the unwearying tenor of Roland's thoughts; she said:—
"You must now remain all the time with our friend Eric, and not leave him a moment."