"We are not the Other One."
"Each man is the Other One. Each man may change the world if he acts of himself."
"Bah!" retorted Giacinto. "We are pawns on a chess-board. Poor devils, we but play our part. What matters it to me that it be primary or secondary? I have sent to hell the devil who killed my brother. For the rest, a fig!—I feel his warm blood on my hands now!"
His nostrils dilated at the ghastly memory, his lips smacked with savage joy, his handsome face glowed with exultation.
"Yes," answered Louis Pierre in a solemn voice. "Your work is accomplished. Fear, Giacinto, for you are now a hollow shell. Remember how the dastardly Volpetti was given life only to accomplish his mission. Volpetti was delivered to you when he had secured the documents for Lecazes. But my work is as yet unfulfilled. For that reason I am secure. My history is as yet unwritten."
"And it shall remain unwritten, my friend. What have two poor devils such as you and I to do with history, especially since we no longer accompany royalty?"
"I am a man," retorted Louis Pierre Louvel. "Have you measured the power of a man? Giacinto, the birth of an individual is of transcendent importance. Remember Him who was born in Judea. Consider the significance of a male child to the House of France! This rotten dynasty which the Cossack has forced us to again endure may yet sprout forth fresh and green, and all because of a child's birth."
By this time the two Carbonari had reached their lodgings. They ascended to their humble apartments. Louis Pierre took up his knapsack and, according to the French custom, kissed his companion on the cheek.
"Are we not to breakfast together?" asked Giacinto.
"By breakfast time, I shall be far away from this place. You should be also," replied Louis Pierre.