“All right. But let’s sit down and have a smoke before we separate.”
They flung themselves under a tree and lit their cigarettes.
“Look here,” said Hugh suddenly, “what would you do if you had a lot of money, say three million francs.”
Rocco showed his white teeth in a derisive smile.
“What would I do with three million francs? Why, first of all I would buy my pardon; then I would go into politics again. I would devote my life to the welfare of Corsica. With all that money one could almost change the destiny of our people. Ah! what a dream....”
“I can tell you where you will find three million francs. You can take or leave them as you choose. Only let it be a secret between us.”
“That is understood,” said Rocco gravely.
Hugh described where he had hidden the money, and sketched the events which had led up to its coming into his possession. When he had finished, Rocco sat in silence; his eyes brooded sombrely, his brows below his lofty forehead knitted in thought. Hugh watched his face, that fine Roman face so full of virility and courage. Beyond a doubt he was stirred by ambitious dreams. Hugh was reminded of Napoleon. Might this, too, not be a man of destiny? Suddenly Rocco roused himself.
“I do not know. It needs reflection. It is too stupendous. I may take the money and use it for my country; but if I do not, you will be sure it will remain there untouched, perhaps forever.... But now you must be on your way. You have far to go; see, already the sun is declining. You must reach the Agaccio road before dusk, and then hurry, hurry to the boat. And now good-bye. Good luck to you.”
“Good-bye. I’ll never forget you.”