Tell me,"--and she turned with a sudden pretty
imperiousness to Lorimer, who started at her voice as a racehorse starts
at its rider's touch,--"what person in Bosekop spoke of us?"
Lorimer was rather at a loss, inasmuch as no one in the small town had
actually spoken of them, and Mr. Dyceworthy's remarks concerning those
who were "ejected with good reason from respectable society," might not,
after all, have applied to the Gueldmar family. Indeed, it now seemed an
absurd and improbable supposition. Therefore he replied cautiously--
"The Reverend Mr. Dyceworthy, I think, has some knowledge of you. Is he
not a friend of yours?"
These simple words had a most unexpected effect. Olaf Gueldmar sprang up
from his seat flaming with wrath. It was in vain that his daughter laid
a restraining hand upon his arm. The name of the Lutheran divine had
sufficed to put him in a towering passion, and he turned furiously upon
the astonished Errington.
"Had I known you came from the devil, sir, you should have returned to
him speedily, with hot words to hasten your departure! I would have
split that glass to atoms before I would have drained it after you! The
friends of a false heart are no friends for me,--the followers of a
pretended sanctity find no welcome under my roof! Why not have told me
at once that you came as spies, hounded on by the liar Dyceworthy? Why
not have confessed it openly? .
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