Johannes heard sounds of disapprobation and laughter behind him, and all sides. There was a singing and roaring in his ears.
'He seems to have read Hans Andersen's tales.'
'He is not quite right in his head.'
The man opposite to him said: 'If you know Andersen, my little man, you ought to have more of his reverence for God and His Word.'
'For God!' He knew that word, and he remembered Windekind's teaching.
'I have no reverence for God. God is a great Petroleum-lamp which leads thousands to misery and misfortune.'
There was no laughter now, but a terrible silence, in which horror and amazement might be felt on all sides. Johannes was conscious of piercing looks, even at his back. It was like his dream of the night before. The man in black stood up and took him by the arm. This hurt him and almost crushed his courage.
'Listen to me, youngster: I do not know whether you are utterly ignorant or utterly depraved, but I suffer no ungodly talk here. Go away, and never come in my sight again, I advise you. I will keep an eye on what becomes of you, but you never more set foot in this house. Do you understand?'
Every face was cold and hostile as he had seen them in his dream. Johannes looked about him in anguish.
'Robinetta—where is Robinetta?'