I should have finished by becoming a thorough blackguard: I preferred that my friend here should amuse himself with lighting a furnace in my inside.Since what I drank just now, I am certain that it fumes like yonder punch."
"You are both foolish and ungrateful," said Morok, shrugging his shoulders; "you held out your glass, and I filled it--and, faith, we shall drink long and often together yet."
For some moments, Cephyse had not withdrawn her eyes from Morok."I tell you, that you have long blown the fire, in which I have burnt my skin,"
resumed Jacques, addressing Morok in a feeble voice, "so that they may not think I die of cholera.It would look as if I had been frightened by the part I played.I do not therefore reproach you, my affectionate friend," added he, with a sardonic smile; "you dug my grave gayly--and sometimes, when, seeing the great dark hole, into which I was about to fall, I drew back a step--but you, my excellent friend, still pushed me forward, saying, `Go on, my boy, go on!'--and I went on--and here I am--"
So saying, Sleepinbuff burst into a bitter laugh, which sent an icy shudder through the spectators of this scene.
"My good fellow," said Morok, coolly, "listen to me, and follow my advice."
"Thank you! I know your advice--and, instead of listening to you, I prefer speaking to my poor Cephyse.Before I go down to the moles, I should like to tell her what weighs on my heart."
"Jacques," replied Cephyse, "do not talk so.I tell you, you shall not die."
"Why, then, my brave Cephyse, I shall owe my life to you," returned Jacques, in a tone of serious feeling, which surprised the spectators.