"I did not understand it then, father; and, besides, I would not have had the courage to say it."
"Courage,--eh! We'll make short work of it, my fine fellow: you shall be a minister; and there's an end."
"I'd rather jump into the river."
"No occasion for that. You shall never go out of this room alive if you don't give me your hand upon it to be a clerical man."
"That I won't do."
"What? That you won't do?" cried Valentine, seizing him by the throat.
"Father," cried Ivo, "for God's sake, father, let me go: do not force me to defend myself: I am not a child any more."
Christina seized her husband's arm. "Valentine," said she, "I shall cry 'Fire!' out of the window if you don't let him go this minute." Valentine released his hold, and she went on:--"Is this the gentleness you promised me? Ivo, forgive him: he is your father, and loves you dearly, and God has given him power over you. Valentine, if you speak another loud word you've seen the last of me, and I'll run away. Ivo, for my sake, give him your hand."
Ivo pressed his lips together, and big tears stole down his cheeks. "Father," he sobbed, "I did not designate myself for a clergyman; nor are you to blame, for you could not know whether I was suited for it or not. Why should we reproach each other?"