"Will you swear that you are ignorant of her retreat, and of the name of her seducer?" coolly continued Dermoyne.
"Men of my cloth do not swear," as coolly returned Herman.
"Allow me to congratulate you upon your ignorance," replied Dermoyne, "for—for;—will you have the goodness to observe me for a moment?"
While Herman watched him with a wondering eye, the young man replaced the gold pieces in his pocket, and rising from his chair, surveyed the room with an attentive gaze. His eye rested at length upon an iron candlestick, which stood upon a shelf of the library; it was evidently out of place in that luxurious room; and had been left there through the forgetfulness of the servant who took care of the Rev. Dr. Bulgin's study. Dermoyne took this candlestick from the shelf, and then returned to the light.
"Do you see this? It is about six inches long and one inch in diameter. Would it not take a strong man to break that in twain with both hands?"
Herman took the candlestick; examined it attentively: "It would take a Sampson," he said.
"Now look at my hand." Dermoyne extended a hand which, hardened by labor in the palm, was not so large as it was muscular and bony.
"What have I to do with your hand?" exclaimed Herman, in evident disgust.
"Watch me," said Dermoyne; and, resting the candlestick on his right hand, he closed his fingers, and pressed his thumb against it. After an instant he opened his hand again. The iron candlestick was bent nearly double. Dermoyne had accomplished this feat without the appearance of exertion.
"Why, you are a very Hercules!" ejaculated Herman,—"and yet, you are not above the medium height. You do not look like a strong man."