I saw
the poor captain arrested by some Prussians, who made themselves the
blood-hounds of the Russians. When we have fished a man out of the
Styx we cling to him. This new danger for poor Paz made me so unhappy
that I let myself be taken too, thinking I could help him. Two men can
get away where one will perish. Thanks to my name and some family
connections in Prussia, the authorities shut their eyes to my escape.
I got my dear captain through as a man of no consequence, a family
servant, and we reached Dantzic. There we got on board a Dutch vessel
and went to London. It took us two months to get there. My mother was
ill in England, and expecting me. Paz and I took care of her till her
death, which the Polish troubles hastened. Then we left London and
came to France. Men who go through such adversities become like
brothers. When I reached Paris, at twenty-two years of age, and found
I had an income of over sixty thousand francs a year, without counting
the proceeds of the diamonds and the pictures sold by my mother, I
wanted to secure the future of my dear Paz before I launched into
dissipation. I had often noticed the sadness in his eyes--sometimes
tears were in them. I had had good reason to understand his soul,
which is noble, grand, and generous to the core. I thought he might
not like to be bound by benefits to a friend who was six years younger
than himself, unless he could repay them.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41