"Only look at him!" they cried, derisively. "He is good for nothing.
He can do nothing. What is he to become but a beggar? Who will pity
him when his uncle is dead, and his mother sick and bedridden? Then
he will have to serve us, and pay us tribute."
They continued to laugh at him, but he walked on quietly. Their
malicious words had not escaped him, but he took no notice of them.
Proudly and composedly he walked on, murmuring to himself in a low
voice: "They shall pay for this some day! They too are my enemies,
on whom I intend to be avenged, fearfully avenged!"
These thoughts were still expressed in his features as he entered
the great store of the merchant Lion. Hastily he threaded his way
down the narrow path that lay between the bales and barrels, toward
the light that shone at the end. There stood the merchant's office.
Now he hears a kindly voice welcoming him.
"Behold the hero of Imbro, the daring conqueror of the sea! Welcome
my hero, welcome!"
He stood still, listening to these tones, a happy smile over-
spreading his countenance. How beautiful it is to be thus welcomed!
To be sure, as yet it is only a friendly greeting, and half in
mockery, but this greeting shall one day resound from the throats of
whole nations, and not in mockery. Shall they hail him, "Welcome,
thou hero!" This he swears shall be, as he steps up to Mr.
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