The sight made me mad. I ground my teeth!
Fire flashed from my eyes! I shouted "En avant!" and longed
to slay. Before my eyes there rose a vision of my heroic grandfather!
In short, I was mad! I was a warrior indeed! But then in my
heart I heard a small voice: "Alphonse," said the voice, "restrain
thyself, Alphonse! Give not way to this evil passion! These
men, though black, are brothers! And thou wouldst slay them?
Cruel Alphonse!" The voice was right. I knew it; I was about
to perpetrate the most horrible cruelties: to wound! to massacre!
to tear limb from limb! And how restrain myself? I looked round;
I saw the tree, I perceived the hole. "Entomb thyself," said
the voice, "and hold on tight! Thou wilt thus overcome temptation
by main force!" It was bitter, just when the blood of my heroic
grandfather boiled most fiercely; but I obeyed! I dragged my
unwilling feet along; I entombed myself! Through the hole I
watched the battle! I shouted curses and defiance on the foe!
I noted them fall with satisfaction! Why not? I had not robbed
them of their lives. Their gore was not upon my head. The blood
of my heroic --'
'Oh, get along with you, you little cur!' broke out Sir Henry,
with a shout of laughter, and giving Alphonse a good kick which
sent him flying off with a rueful face.
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