“If it is beautiful and rare to find presence of mind and reason united in youth, it is certainly not less honorable to add to these qualities philanthropy. Not only did you wish to save this man (and you have saved him), but you now desire to assure the existence he owes you. This I call sublime. Such acts, sir, do so great honor to their author that our thanks would be out of place: he finds his reward in his heart. What recompense is to be compared to the consciousness of having been a benefactor? Allow me, sir, to ask your name, in order that I may send it in to the Administration, which knows how to appreciate such disinterestedness.”
“My name is Eusebe Martin.”
“Are you a relation of M. Martin, of the Tribunal of Commerce?”
“I think not. I have just arrived from Limousin. I know no one in Paris.”
“You are quite young.”
“Twenty-one.”
“I am glad of it; for were you not of age I could not accept your gift.”
“I don’t know,” said Eusebe.
The commissary looked at the clerk with astonishment.