"For that alone we owe you eternal gratitude," added Dudley.
"To see him! to see him," cried Mortimer in a new access of feeling, "to see him again whom we believed to be dead—to see him indeed face to face—to again find before our eyes this proud and noble figure—to see it again in the midst of the fire—the—the—ah, well—yes, I weep—I weep," cried the brave Mortimer, no longer restraining his emotion; "yes, I weep like a child, and a thousand thunderbolts crush those who do not comprehend that an old soldier thus can weep."
Emotion is as contagious as enthusiasm.
Dick, followed the example of his friend Percy, and the others did as Dick and his friend Percy did.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE JUDGMENT.
A new personage came to augment the number of the passionate admirers of Monmouth. There was seen advancing, supported by two servants, a man still young, but condemned to premature infirmity by numerous wounds.
Lord Jocelyn Rothsay, in spite of his sufferings, had wished to join himself to the partisans of the prince, and if not to fight for the cause that Monmouth was going to defend, at least to come before the duke and to be one of the first to felicitate him on his resurrection.
Lord Rothsay's hair was white, although his pale face was still young and his mustache was as black as his bold and brilliant eyes. Enveloped in a long dressing-gown, he advanced with difficulty, supported on the shoulders of the two servants.
"Here is the brave Rothsay who has as many wounds as hairs in his mustache," cried Lord Dudley.