"Leave me alone with my father, Herr Professor," I interrupted him.
The professor looked at me as if he could not believe his ears. A delinquent, a criminal--for such I was in his eyes--to dare to interrupt his judge in such a tone, and with such a request--it was impossible.
"Young man," he began again, but his tone was not as assured as the first time.
"I tell you, leave us alone together," I cried with a louder voice, and making a motion towards him.
"He is mad," said the professor, taking a hasty step backwards, which brought him in contact with the table.
"Sirrah!" exclaimed my father, stepping quickly forward, as if to protect the professor from my violence.
"If I am mad," I said, turning my burning eyes from one to the other, "so much the greater reason for leaving us alone."
The professor looked round for his hat, which stood behind him on the table.
"No; remain, remain," said my father, his voice quivering with passion. "Is this audacious boy again to have his insolent way? I have too long been culpably negligent; it is high time to take other measures."
My father began to pace up and down the room, as he always did when violently agitated.