said he, after a moment
of pregnant silence. "What have they to do with the proposal which I
make you? I must have your answer! Will you devote yourself, and
sacrifice all to this great end, and be my friend of friends forever?"

"In Heaven's name, Hollingsworth," cried I, getting angry, and glad to
be angry, because so only was it possible to oppose his tremendous
concentrativeness and indomitable will, "cannot you conceive that a man
may wish well to the world, and struggle for its good, on some other
plan than precisely that which you have laid down? And will you cast
off a friend for no unworthiness, but merely because he stands upon his
right as an individual being, and looks at matters through his own
optics, instead of yours?"

"Be with me," said Hollingsworth, "or be against me! There is no third
choice for you."

"Take this, then, as my decision," I answered. "I doubt the wisdom of
your scheme. Furthermore, I greatly fear that the methods by which you
allow yourself to pursue it are such as cannot stand the scrutiny of an
unbiassed conscience."

"And you will not join me?"

"No!"

I never said the word--and certainly can never have it to say
hereafter--that cost me a thousandth part so hard an effort as did that
one syllable. The heart-pang was not merely figurative, but an
absolute torture of the breast. I was gazing steadfastly at
Hollingsworth. It seemed to me that it struck him, too, like a bullet.
A ghastly paleness--always so terrific on a swarthy face--overspread
his features. There was a convulsive movement of his throat, as if he
were forcing down some words that struggled and fought for utterance.
Whether words of anger, or words of grief, I cannot tell; although many
and many a time I have vainly tormented myself with conjecturing which
of the two they were. One other appeal to my friendship,--such as
once, already, Hollingsworth had made,--taking me in the revulsion that
followed a strenuous exercise of opposing will, would completely have
subdued me. But he left the matter there. "Well!" said he.

And that was all! I should have been thankful for one word more, even
had it shot me through the heart, as mine did him. But he did not
speak it; and, after a few moments, with one accord, we set to work
again, repairing the stone fence. Hollingsworth, I observed, wrought
like a Titan; and, for my own part, I lifted stones which at this
day--or, in a calmer mood, at that one--I