Wharton gazed on him a moment in fixed astonishment.—Louis did not perceive the amazement he had created, but walked on with a steadier pace and a calmer countenance.
"Well," thought the Duke, as he put his arm through that of Louis; "Anteas rose the stronger, after he had touched his mother earth! But Hercules will try another throw!"
"De Montemar," said he, "let us leave these unlucky Hourii to their slumbers, and resume the subject which they charmed to silence last night?—An eve's dropper might be dangerous; so, let us turn towards the wood, where we may converse undisturbed."
Louis looked at his watch, and seeing that the tide would not be at full for yet half an hour, he allowed Wharton to turn his steps through the inner-court into the park.
"Louis de Montemar, I am going to unlock my heart to you.—I am going to put my life into your hands."
"My Lord?"
"I am.—But I have weighed the trust.—You do not know yourself.—I do; and,—laugh at me for a coxcomb, if you please! But I affirm, your character and mine are composed of the same materials. I recognize my brother's soul in your breast; and the same will be your pursuits, the same your destiny."
"Oh, my Lord," cried Louis, "if emulation could transform its subject, you might not prophesy in vain!—But I will not think you mock me! Your own luminous nature surrounds you; and seeing through that, you fancy objects bright, which only reflect your beams."
"Prettily said, my ingenious friend," answered the Duke, "but my position shall be proved by the fact.—Let us compare circumstances.—You are not yet of age?"
"Just twenty."