and there should be no secrets between us," urged Durand.
"There shall be none," answered Oliver.
"Have you much money?" asked Durand.
"Do you want to lend me any?" cried Oliver.
"No matter if I did. But still I want an answer," urged Durand.
"I have eleven thousand francs in gold sewn in my belt, and in a bag fastened round my neck diamonds worth a hundred and twenty thousand more. Besides this I have about eighty guineas in English money for immediate expenses. Are you satisfied?"
"Perfectly," said the captain laughing, "and now listen to me."
"Then it appears you are not quite satisfied?" cried Oliver, in his turn surprised.
"Don't be in a hurry. I wish to interest you if I can."
"I will wait your pleasure," observed Oliver, smiling at the other's hesitation.
"It is useless," said Durand, "for me to feign a gaiety I do not feel. I feel more like weeping than laughing. The mere idea of this long, perhaps eternal, separation makes my heart bleed. I think that the hand now in mine I shall never shake again."
"Don't be downhearted. Perhaps we may meet sooner than either of us expect," retorted Oliver.
"I hope you may be a true prophet. Still I cannot help shuddering at the thought of your starting off amidst people whose language you do not even know."
"There you are mistaken," responded Oliver; "as well as French, I speak English, Spanish, and Dutch, with about five Indian dialects, which I picked up at different times."
"It is a wonder," mused the other, "that, placed as you have been, you should have had the time."
"Before I became a cabin boy I could read and write a little. After a time I spent every moment of leisure in study."
"I remember," sighed Durand, "I never met you without you were reading. What will you do for books now?"
"What book is more interesting than that in which God has written on the plains, on the mountains, on the minutest blade of grass?" replied Oliver with enthusiasm. "Believe me, my friend, the sacred book of Nature has pages too interesting to ever weary us; from them you always find consolation, hope, encouragement. But," he added with a smile, "I have two books with me which, in my opinion, epitomise all great human thoughts, make man better, and even restore his courage, when bowed down by the heavy weight of misfortune. I have these books by heart, and yet I read them over again."
And he laid on the table two books bound in black morocco.
"What!" cried the amazed captain, "'The Imitation of Jesus Christ' and 'Montaigne'!"
"Yes. 'The Imitation of Jesus Christ' and 'Montaigne,' the most complete and sincere books ever written, for they tell the story of doubt and belief. They tell the rival story of all the philosophers who have existed since the creation of the world. With these two books and the magnificent spectacle of Nature around me have I not a whole library?"
"I cannot make you out. You overwhelm me," said the captain; "but I have not the courage to contradict you. You are too much for me. Go forth, seek the unknown, for alone that will comprehend you. You are one of those whom adversity purifies and renders great; you will often feel inclined to fall by the way in the gigantic combat you are about to undertake against the world. But fail is not a word in your dictionary. Even death, when it comes, will not conquer you."
"All the more that death is but a transformation, a purification of brutal matter by Divine agency. But," he remarked with a smile, "I think we are talking about very serious matters very foreign to our subject. Let us return to business, for the hour of our departure is rapidly approaching."
At this moment the tramp of horses was heard, and the captain again ran to the window.
"Hilloa!" cried the young man; "Another of your mysterious walks! Do explain yourself."
"All right," he replied, reseating himself, "there is no reason for circumlocution between friends. The truth must be told. I had hoped to lend you money, and I know that had you have required it, you would have borrowed it."
"Certainly, without hesitation, my friend."
"Of course, as I find you are very much better off than myself, I withdraw the proposition; but I had already provided your outfit."
"What can you mean? Provided my outfit!"
"Yes! I mean to say that there is not a single thing required for your journey that is not ready. Look!"
And both rising, the captain opened the parcels which had been left on a side table.
"Look here," said the captain; "this is a real Kentucky rifle, the only gun fit for a hunter; I have tried it. This is a ball pouch, with mould and everything necessary to make others when needed; this is your powder horn, which is full, while here are two small canisters to replenish with; this is a 'necessary,' as we sailors call it, containing spoon, fork, cup, knife, and other trifles; this is a leather belt; this is a game bag, with gaiters, riding boots, a cloak, and four rugs."
"My dear friend," said Oliver, deeply moved, "you have been ruining yourself."
"Get out of that and wait a little longer. As you seriously wish to adopt savage life, at all events you must be rigged out accordingly," he added, laughing. "This is a hunting knife, which you put in your belt; these pistols are to be placed in the holsters; that sword is perhaps one of the best cavalry swords I have ever seen. What, more! Oh, yes. This portmanteau, which is neither too large nor too small, in which you will find shirts and other necessaries. Then some pipes, tobacco, flint and steel, and a dozen boxes of preserves, in case you may someday be short of provisions. I think, on my honour, that is all. No, I had forgotten: paper, pens, ink, and pencils. And now my watch as a last remembrance."
"This I must refuse. Your watch is too useful to yourself."
"My friend, every time you look at it you will think of me," said the captain.
And the two Frenchmen embraced.
"I accept," replied Oliver, with deep emotion.
"Now I know," continued the captain, "you are really my friend; and now let me see you dressed up as a true traveller, while I put the other things back into their parcels."
"But before I don my new prairie costume, I have something else to buy," cried Oliver.
"What!" cried the captain, "I thought surely I had forgotten nothing."
"Do you think, my dear friend, that I am going to carry all this on my back. I don't want to look like a comic Robinson Crusoe, and, besides, it is more than I could do. I must have a horse."
The captain burst out laughing.
"Look out of window, my dear friend," he said, "and then you shall decide whether or not I forgot anything."
Oliver approached the window, and saw two magnificent horses admirably caparisoned.
"What do you think of those animals?" asked the captain.
"They are both splendid; above all, the black one – a true horse of the prairies – a mustang."
"You seem to
