Roland was astounded.
“Have not?” he gasped.
“I said that.”
“Why not?”
“Because any man who has a taste for liquor, and drinks as much as he likes, makes himself troublesome to others in some way, and no man has a right to trouble others unnecessarily. Besides, you set a bad example for other students. Although we may not know it, every one of us does good, or works harm, by our example.”
Packard broke into a harsh laugh.
“What the devil have you here, Defarge?” he cried. “Is this a temperance crank?”
The effect of this speech on the stranger was not discernible, for his scarred face remained strangely inexpressive.
“I am no crank,” he said; “but I simply tell you the truth. Ever since the world began, the man who has dared to tell the truth has been called a crank. Lots of these cranks have suffered and died for their convictions. Many of them were put to death because they believed and preached things which the world soon after accepted as scientific truths.”
Packard gave himself a shake. Surely this was a remarkable chap. All at once Roland seized the decanter and poured out a glass of whisky, which he offered to the scar-faced youth.