“I have never heard of your going about and ... your having this weakness before,” he said.
Whereto Rolandsen answered, No, not among the fishermen, no. When he wanted to steal, he didn’t go bird-nesting in that petty fashion; he went to the bank itself.
That was one for Mack! He only answered now with a reproachful air, “But that you could steal from me....”
Rolandsen said, “I worked myself up to it, to be bold enough. I was drunk at the time, I am sorry to say.”
After this it seemed no longer impossible that the confession was true. Rolandsen was known to be a wild fellow who led an extravagant life and had no great income to draw upon. That keg of brandy from Rosengaard must have cost him something.
“And I’ve more to confess, I’m sorry to say,” went on Rolandsen. “I haven’t the money now, to pay it back.”
Mack looked highly indifferent. “That doesn’t matter in the least,” he said. “The thing that troubles me is all the stupid gossip it’s led to. All those unpleasant insinuations against me and my family.”
“I’ve thought of that. And I was going to do something....”
“What do you mean?”
“Take down your placard from the Vicarage gate and put up one of my own in its place.”