“Most assuredly. I shall be glad to claim your friendship, and will aid you in everything as far as I am able; believe me, I bear you no ill-will because brighter stars beam upon your way than upon mine just now. You have suffered in the past and borne it like a hero, and I am truly glad that your future is so promising.”
Tears stood in Earle’s eyes as he said, with a burst of enthusiasm:
“Paul Tressalia, you are a hero! You make me think of those lines by Joseph Addison:
‘Unbounded courage and compassion joined,
Tempering each other in the victor’s mind,
Alternately proclaim him good and great,
And make the hero and the man complete.’”
“You make me out greater than I am,” was the sad reply, as he remembered the terrible thoughts and temptations that had come to him a few hours before. “I cannot deny,” he continued, after a slight pause, “that I am bitterly disappointed—that it is a trial almost greater than I can bear to lose all I had so firmly believed to be mine—that I had grown up from youth believing would be mine! and had I the least idea now that your claim was invalid, I should do battle valiantly before I would yield up one foot of my possessions to you. Human nature will assert itself, you know, and I am conscious that I am not above its weaknesses. But, Earle, I mean to fight them down until, with the last one under my heel, I shall be able at length to cheerfully contemplate God’s richest blessings abiding on you and—yours.”
The last word was spoken in a hoarse whisper, and his companion realized that all the force of a mighty will had been employed to let him know how entirely he relinquished everything and acknowledged his superior claim, even to Editha Dalton’s love.
Paul Tressalia could bear no more, and, wringing Earle’s hand, he went quickly away, leaving him alone and deeply moved.