“Well, I shall be the last to throw cold water over those hopes. On the one hand, I shall not extinguish them; on the other, I should be the last to fan them into a blaze if they are false. I shall now,” he added, “see what you can do. Shall I try you with Cæsar?”
“No, please, I hate it. It is only fit for babies.”
“Omne Gallia divisa est in partes tres! ha! ha! ha!”
And Sandie burst out laughing.
The Rector joined him right merrily.
“No,” continued Sandie, “let me try Livy and Cicero and Virgil, with Horace, Homer, Anacreon, and Juvenal.”
The Rector got up from his seat and left the room. Presently he returned, carrying a whole pile of books, and next half-hour flew by on the wings of the wind, apparently so busy was Sandie, reading and translating passages from his favourite authors.
The Rector was delighted, astonished; and when he learned that all day long this lad worked as a farm-labourer, studying only in the evenings and at night, he marvelled still more.
“Will I do?” said Sandie at last. “Have I a chance?”
His whole soul seemed to go out with these two simple questions; his whole happiness hung on the answer thereto.