“I will adventure!” said Ronsard. “If, as you say, it was the King, I will save him if he can be saved! Once a King’s life was nothing to me; now it is something! The tide veers round these Islands, and the vessel on which they have placed the body of Lotys, can scarcely drift away from the circle till morning, unless the waves are too strong for it—”
“They are too strong!” cried the coral-fisher; “Ronsard, believe me! There is no rain to soften or abate the wind—and the sea grows greater with every breath of the rising gale!”
“I care nothing!” replied Ronsard; “Let be! If you are afraid, I will go alone!”
At these words, the Professor suddenly awoke to the situation.
“What would you attempt, Ronsard?” he exclaimed; “You can do nothing! You are weak and ailing!—there is no force in you to combat with the elements on such a night as this—”
“There is force!” said Ronsard; “The force of my thirst for atonement! Let me be, for God’s sake! Let me do something useful in my life!—let me try to save the King! If I die, so much the better.”
“Then I will go with you!” said Von Glauben, desperately.
Ronsard shook his head.
“You? No, my friend! You will not! You will remain to welcome Gloria—to tell her that I loved her to the last!—that I did my best!”
He seemed to have grown young in an instant,—his eyes flashed with alertness and vigour, and instead of an old decaying man, full of cares and despondencies, he seemed like a bold adventurer, before whom a new land of promise opens. Von Glauben looked at him, and in a moment made up his mind. He turned to the coral-fisher.