"Let him use them at his peril, for he will thereby deprive himself of the advantage of hearing me without witnesses."
"He will set all the machinery that his high position affords him in motion against you; he will use his power recklessly to restrain you."
"I am no bawling soothsayer who will attack Cæsar in the open street, to warn him of the Ides of March. My knowledge of what will humble him before himself and his contemporaries, is my weapon. I assure you he will give me opportunity to use it as I will."
"He is going away," said Raschke, anxiously.
"Where can he go to that I cannot follow him?"
"The apprehension that you will excite in him will drive him to some dark deed."
"Let him do his worst; I must do what will give me peace."
"Werner!" cried Raschke, raising his hands, "I ought not to leave you in this position, and yet you make your friend feel how powerless his honest counsel is against your stubborn will."
The Professor went up to him and embraced him. "Farewell, Raschke. As high as any man can stand in the esteem of another, you stand in mine. Do not be angry if, in this case, I follow more the impulse of my own nature than the mild wisdom of yours. Give my greeting to your wife and children."
Raschke passed his hands over his eyes, drew on his coat, and put the letter to Struvelius in his pocket. In doing so he found another letter, took it out, and read the address. "A letter from my wife to you," he said; "How did it come into my pocket!"