.

.

and he had eluded the acknowledgment of his signature, fleeing his country and betraying his trust to his forefathers! Ah, miserable coward! The material success of his life, the riches acquired in a remote country, were comparatively of no importance.

There are failures that millions cannot blot out.

The uneasiness of his conscience was proving it now.
Proof, too, was in the envy and respect inspired by this poor mechanic marching to meet his death with others equally humble, all kindled with the satisfaction of duty fulfilled, of sacrifice accepted.
The memory of Madariaga came to his memory.
"Where we make our riches, and found a family--there is our country." No, the statement of the centaur was not correct.