"And you," said he impulsively, "you not only look like, but you are an angel."
This was pretty strong for the young professor, but the lady understood him. She was very glad, indeed, that he could express himself impulsively, for without that power he could not win Olive.
As Dick started away from Broadstone on his walk to the toll-gate he heard quick steps behind him and was soon overtaken by Claude Locker.
"Hello," said that young man, "if you are on your way home I am going to walk a while with you. I have not done a thing to-day."
When Dick heard these words his heart sank. He was on his way home accompanied by Olive—Olive in his heart, Olive in his soul, Olive in his brain, Olive in the sky and all over the earth—how dared a common mortal intrude himself upon the scene?
"There is another thing," said Locker, who was now keeping step with him. "My soul is filled with murderous intent. I thirst for human life, and I need the restraints of companionship."
"Who is it you want to kill?" asked Dick coldly.
"It is an Austrian," replied the other. "I will not say what Austrian, leaving that to your imagination. I don't suppose you ever killed an Austrian. Neither have I, but I should like to do it. It would be a novel and delightful experience."
Dick did not think it necessary that he should be told more; he perfectly understood the state of the case, for it was impossible not to see that this young man was paying marked attention to Olive, while Mr. Du Brant was doing the same thing. But still it seemed well to say something, and he remarked:
"What is the matter with the Austrian?"