'Because I have had letters offering me a command in the expedition to cross the frontier of Gloria.'
The Dictator looked straight into the eyes of Captain Sarrasin. They were mild, blue, fearless eyes. Ericson read nothing there that he might not have read in the eyes of Sarrasin's quiet, scholarly, untravelled brother.
'Captain Sarrasin,' he said, 'I am an odd sort of person, and always have been—can't help myself in fact. Do you mind my feeling your pulse?'
'Not in the least,' Sarrasin gravely answered, with as little expression of surprise about him as if Ericson had asked him whether he did not think the weather was very fine. He held out a strong sinewy and white wrist. Ericson laid his finger on the pulse.
'Your pulse as mine,' he said, 'doth temperately keep time, and makes as healthful music.'
Captain Sarrasin's face lighted.
'You are a Shakespearian?' he said eagerly. 'I am so glad. I am an old-fashioned person, and I love Shakespeare; that is only another reason why——'
'Go on, Captain Sarrasin.'
'Why I want to go along with you.'
'But do you want to go along with me, and where?'