"Stay," said he, "and let me think." The truth is, a daring idea had
just flashed through that brain of his; and he wanted to think it out.
He walked to and fro in silent agitation, and his face was as a book in
which you may read strange matter. At last he made up his mind, but
the matter was one he did not dare to approach too bluntly, so he went
about a little.
"Stay--you don't know all my misfortunes. I am ambitious--like you. I
believe in science and knowledge--like you. And, if my child had
lived, you should have been my adviser and my right hand: I want such
a man as you."
Hope threw up his hands. "My usual luck!" said he: "always a day too
late." Bartley resumed:
"But my child's death robs me of the money to work with, and I can't help
you nor help myself."
Hope groaned.
Bartley hesitated. But after a moment he said, timidly, "Unless--" and
then stopped.
"Unless what?" asked Hope, eagerly. "I am not likely to raise objections
my child's life is at stake."
"Well, then, unless you are really the superior man you seem to be: a man
of ability and--courage.
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