exclaimed with joy, ‘The very books I want! I read them twice already, and I shall read them again. O, let me kiss you for the thought.’ And in an ecstasy he overwhelms me again with suffusing sobs and embraces.
“What a difference, I thought, between Khalid of yesterday and Khalid of today. What a transformation! Even I who know the turn and temper of his nature had much this time to fear. Surely, an alienist would have made a case of him. But I began to get an inkling into his cue of passion, when he told me that he was going to start a little business again, if I lend him the necessary capital. But I reminded him that we shall soon be returning home. ‘No, not I,’ he swore; ‘not until I can pay my own passage, at least. I told you yesterday I’ll accept no more money from you, except, of course, the sum I need to start the little business I am contemplating.’ ‘And suppose you lose this money,’ I asked.—‘Why, then you lose me . But no, you shall not. For I know, I believe, I am sure, I swear that my scheme this time will not be a failure in any sense of the word. I have heavenly testimony on that.’—‘And what was the matter with you yesterday? Why were you so queer?’ ‘O, I had nightmares and visions the night before, and you came too early in the morning. See this.’ And he holds down his head to show me the back of his neck. ‘Is there no swelling here? I feel it. Oh, it pains me yet. But I shall tell you about it and about the vision when I am out.’—And at this, the gaoler comes to inform us that Khalid’s minutes are spent and he must return to his cell.”
All of which from our Interpreter is as clear as God Save the King. And from which we hope our Reader will infer that those outbursts and tears and rhapsodies of Khalid did mean somewhat. They did mean, even when we first approached his cell, that something was going on in him—a revolution, a coup d’état, so to speak, of the spirit. For a Prince in Rags, but not in Debts and Dishonour, will throttle the Harpy which has hitherto ruled and degraded his soul.