Traitor as he was he was unable to foresee punishment--materialist to the heart's core, he had no knowledge of the divine law of compensation.

Now and then a dangerous impulse stirred me--a desire to say to him point-blank: "You are a condemned criminal--a doomed man on the brink of the grave.
Leave this light converse and frivolous jesting--and, while there is time, prepare for death!" But I bit my lips and kept stern silence.

Often, too, I felt disposed to seize him by the throat, and, declaring my identity, accuse him of his treachery to his face, but I always remembered and controlled myself.

One point in his character I knew well--I had known it of old--this was his excessive love of good wine.

I aided and abetted him in this weakness, and whenever he visited me I took care that he should have his choice of the finest vintages.