"Out of respect for the cap I will not refuse you entrance here. But make what you have to say as brief as possible. In this house no Schranden is a welcome guest."
He put his stick in a corner, and drawing his flowered dressing-gown close about his loins, paced up and down the room.
Boleslav cast about for words. He felt like a criminal in the presence of this man, whose speech was like molten brass. Of a truth it was no easy matter, this taking the guilt of another on to one's own guiltless shoulders.
"_Herr Pastor_," he began, stammering, "can't you forget for a moment that I bear the name of Schranden?"
The old man laughed bitterly. "That's asking a little too much," he murmured; "a little too much."
"Regard me simply in the light of a son who wishes to bury his father, and who is prevented from fulfilling that most sacred duty by the wickedness and malice of the _canaille_."
For answer the old parson contracted his shaggy brows without speaking.
"I appeal to you as a priest of the Christian Church. Will you suffer such a scandal in your parish?"
"Such a thing cannot happen in my parish," the old man declared. "Wherever it is my duty to lead souls to God, every one must be granted a decent burial."
"That man has been dead for seven years."
"For seven years he lived ostracised from the society of his fellow-creatures. Seven years he practically rotted in the earth. Therefore, don't trouble me about him further."
"_Herr Pastor_, I was once your pupil. From your lips I first learnt the name of God. I always thought you a brave, upright man. I retract that opinion now; for what you have just been saying are lying, cowardly quibbles."
The old man drew himself up. His beard worked; his nostrils expanded. With lurid eyes he came nearer to Boleslav.
"My son," he said, "do I look like a man who would countenance a lie?"
Boleslav maintained his defiant attitude. But, much as he struggled against it, he felt the old, long-forgotten sentiment of respect for the schoolmaster awaking in him once more.
"My son," went on the old man, "a word from me, and the rabble that waits for you on the other side of that hedge would lynch you, but, as I said before, for the sake of the cap you wear, I will be merciful. If you like, I can prove that what I said just now is no lie."