"And whither am I to go?" exclaimed he, with the most unbounded rage. "You have taken away my sight; how, then, do I know in which direction to go? Call you not this a crime thus to abuse your power over one unhappily in your hands? Thus to—"
"To abuse my power!" repeated Rodolph, in a solemn voice. "And how have you employed the power granted to you? How used your superior strength?"
"O Death! how gladly would I now accept you!" cried the wretched man. "To be henceforward at every one's mercy,—to fear the weakest, the smallest object!—a child might now master me! Gracious God! what will become of me?"
"You have plenty of money."
"It will be taken from me!" cried the ruffian.
"Mark those words,—'It will be taken from me!' See how they fill you with fear and dread! You have plundered so many, unmindful of their helpless, destitute condition,—begone!"
"For the love of God," cried the Schoolmaster, in a suppliant tone, "let some person lead me forth! What will become of me in the streets? Oh, in mercy kill me! take my miserable life! but do not turn me out thus wretched, thus helpless! Kill, for pity's sake, and save me from being crushed beneath the first vehicle I encounter!"
"No! Live and repent."
"Repent!" shouted the Schoolmaster, in a fearful voice. "Never! I will live for vengeance,—for deep and fearful vengeance!" And again he threw himself from the chair, holding his clenched fists in a menacing attitude towards the ceiling, as though calling upon Heaven to witness the fixedness of his resolve. In an instant his step faltered; he again hesitated, as though fearful of a thousand dangers.
"Alas! alas! I cannot proceed,—I dare not move! And I, lately so strong and so dreaded by all,—look at me now! Yet no one pities me,—no one cares for me,—no hand is stretched out to help the wretched blind upon his lonely way!"