“Alone!”
“Yes, alone; without even a guide.”
“You alone! unarmed! in a barbarous country!” exclaimed Dagobert, scarcely crediting a step so unmilitary, and almost distrusting his own sense of hearing.
“It was sublime!” said the young blacksmith and poet.
“The Christian faith,” said Gabriel, with mild simplicity, “cannot be implanted by force or violence. It is only by the power of persuasion that the gospel can be spread amongst poor savages.”
“But when persuasions fail!” said Agricola.
“Why, then, dear brother, one has but to die for the belief that is in him, pitying those who have rejected it, and who have refused the blessings it offers to mankind.”
There was a period of profound silence after the reply of Gabriel, which was uttered with simple and touching pathos.
Dagobert was in his own nature too courageous not to comprehend a heroism thus calm and resigned; and the old soldier, as well as his son, now contemplated Gabriel with the most earnest feelings of mingled admiration and respect.
Gabriel, entirely free from the affection of false modesty, seemed quite unconscious of the emotions which he had excited in the breasts of his two friends; and he therefore said to Dagobert, “What ails you?”