The intensity of his agitation seemed suddenly to
deny to him the faculty of speech. Every muscle in the frame of that
stern, melancholy man quivered at the immortal promptings of the soul
within him. There was something almost feminine in his universal
susceptibility to the influence of one solitary emotion. Even the
rough, desperate landholder felt awed by the enthusiasm of the being
before him, and forgot his wrongs, terrible as they were--and his
misery, poignant as it was--as he gazed upon his companion's face.
For some minutes neither of the men said more. Soon, however, the last
speaker calmed his agitation with the facility of a man accustomed to
stifle the emotions that he cannot crush, and advancing to the
landholder, took him sorrowfully by the hand.
'I see, Probus, that I have amazed you,' said he; 'but the Church is the
only subject on which I have no discretion. In all other matters I have
conquered the rashness of my early manhood; in this I have to wrestle
with my hastier nature still.
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