"Oh, it's generally reported that you're going to leave the neighborhood."
"If I knew who started that story, I'd pull his tongue out of his throat."
"I wouldn't do that," laughed Titus; "you certainly ought to know that that isn't a good plan."
"'Twas you," cried Landolin, "that started it--you!"
Titus gave no answer, but got up and walked away; the others soon followed him, and Landolin was left alone at the table.
Music filled the air. There was dancing; and during the intervals people laughed and sang, and made merry, while Landolin struggled with rage and sorrow. Are these people here all snow-white innocents? Are there not dozens of them who have much worse things on their conscience?
He wished that he had power to rush in and crush everything under foot.
At other times a sadness came over him, and he thought: "Were I only in prison, or, better still, not in the world at all."
But lest he should show his emotion, he leaned back, lighted his pipe, and smoked with a defiant look on his face. "They shall not succeed in making me eat humble pie."
At that moment merry laughter arose from the table where the people of rank were sitting. "What does that mean? Are the great folks rejoicing over my misfortune? No, that cannot be, for there sits the judge's wife, with her son, the lieutenant."