But Wangen started up again.
“No,” he cried, “not for the world! Shall I beg him for the help that he’s given once, but backed out of? Good heavens, no! No! Do you really think, Pastor Borring, that when first Norby has ruined me, then dishonoured me, then driven my wife to the verge of madness, I am going to Norby to ask him to be friends? No! That would be a little too much!”
“I don’t know who is guilty,” said the pastor sadly. “Let the guilty one settle the matter with God.”
Wangen laughed scornfully. “That sounds very nice, Hr. Borring, but what have we got law and justice for? You should feel what it is like to be in my place. I spent my wife’s and my own fortune in creating an industry here, and it succeeded as long as it wasn’t in Norby’s way. He has traduced me until I was refused credit; he has managed to prevent my compounding; and it is not even enough for him to know that I am destitute! No, I’m not to keep my good name either; I’m to go to prison too. And you want me to forget all this? If Norby were to come here himself and ask me—but it’s too late for that too now.”
The pastor sat for a while with his lips compressed.
“Tell me, Wangen! Have you never caused suffering to any one else in this world?” he said.
The question startled Wangen, and he again forced a laugh.
“All I know is,” he said after a short pause, “that I’m innocent in this instance. And Norby has now tortured and worried me so long that he shall go to the prison that he intended for me. If he is so rich too he shall be made to pay. I won’t take a small compensation.”
“Ah! it’s all very well suffering when you get paid for it,” thought the pastor. “That man is the guilty one.” Aloud he said: “God help us that we find it so difficult to forgive one another! And yet we expect Him to be always ready to forgive us.”