“You are kinder to me than I deserve, Oriel,” murmured his fair companion, with a look of gratitude from her lustrous eyes that he found perfectly irresistible.
“Not at all, my Eureka!” said her lover, affectionately; “am I not indebted to you for life and liberty, and all that render them valuable? Do I not know how much you have dared and endured for my sake? And do you think it possible, that with a knowledge of these things, I can regard you with any other feeling than that of the most devoted affection? No, Eureka, I must love you while I have life. But how cleverly you continued the disguise. When I first saw you, I recognised in the handsome page a resemblance to features it was impossible for me not to notice; but your scheme was so admirably managed that I never entertained the slightest suspicion of your true character.”
“Nor up to the present moment has any one in the ship,” replied Eureka. “They only know me as Zabra, except that worthy creature, Tourniquet, who discovered my secret when I was wounded, and I immediately made him aware of my history and object in joining you, at which he was so much delighted as to proffer his assistance in carrying on the deception; and I should have been discovered but for him on more than one occasion.”
“That accounts for his confusion at the tiger-hunt,” observed Oriel; “and for what I considered the mystery in your behaviour. But there is nothing strange or unaccountable in it now. I only wonder at you. I am amazed when I think of your risking so much for one who is so little worthy of such extraordinary devotion.”
“You will not love me the less for it, will you?” inquired Eureka, gazing in his face with a look of thrilling tenderness.
“Love you less, Eureka!” exclaimed the young merchant; “that would be ungrateful! While I have an appreciation of truth and excellence and fidelity, and that wonderful intellectual power you have so often exhibited, the admiration with which I regard you must approach idolatry. You are a creature to be proud of.”
“And yet I am afraid I shall lose you,” said his companion, anxiously; “I have just heard upon what errand you are hastening. It is full of danger. It is beset by perils. But the cause is a proud one, and I do not attempt to dissuade you from proceeding with it. Go on your career of glory. Give your impetuous soul free scope for the developement of its energies. Think not of me, except the thought can nerve your arm and strengthen your resolution. Be as daring as your fearless nature prompts you to be. With such an end in view as that you have before you, I can allow myself no other sense, or impression, or emotion than that which may accompany my earnest hopes for your success. I have come to a resolution to forget my own selfish feelings. It is time I should. Your advancement, your greatness, your fame, are the objects to which any thoughts must now always incline. If you live to triumph over your enemies, and to attain that eminence whereon you are so desirous of being placed, and to which you will do so much honour, none will rejoice more sincerely than she who has shown herself so anxious to insure your happiness—if you die——”
“Eureka, my adored!” rapturously exclaimed Oriel, pressing her to his breast, as he noticed that she was unable to proceed, “there is no fear of such a result. Believe me you alarm yourself unnecessarily. I shall succeed, I am assured of it: I shall succeed to have the proud enjoyment of glorifying you with my pre-eminence. I feel convinced that if we can only arrive in time, I shall rescue my father. Nothing shall stop me—I will not be defeated: and if we should be too late for this great object, which I see no reason to apprehend, I will not rest satisfied till I have punished his murderers. I have no dread of death; but if I should die, I shall die a death worthy of the lover of Eureka. I shall die in endeavouring to rescue my country from its oppressors.—I shall die in avenging the murder of one of the noblest and best of men.”
“One word more, Oriel—one word more,” said Eureka. “I have only to ask you, as a testimony of your love for me, that, if in the coming conflict you should meet my father, you will not kill him.”
“He deserves little mercy at my hands,” replied the young merchant. “But your desire is natural, and I will comply with it. He must answer for his crimes to the country they have disgraced. And now let us go on deck, a little fresh air would do neither of us any harm; and when you behold the noble fleet that has joined me in my enterprise, I hope that all your apprehensions will vanish.”