“Hold on, Wondergood! I never speak of myself and do not like to hear others speak of me. Let it be sufficient for you to know that you are the first man in four years to break in upon my solitude and this only due to chance. I do not like people.”
“Oh, pardon. But I do not believe it.”
Magnus went over to the bookcase and with an expression of supreme contempt he seized the first volume he laid his hands upon.
“And you who have read no books,” he said, “do you know what these books are about? Only about evil, about the mistakes and sufferings of humanity. They are filled with tears and blood, Wondergood. Look: in this thin little book which I clasp between two fingers is contained a whole ocean of human blood, and if you should take all of them together——. And who has spilled this blood? The devil?”
I felt flattered and wanted to bow in acknowledgment, but he threw the book aside and shouted:
“No, sir: Man! Man has spilled this blood! Yes, I do read books but only for one purpose; to learn how to hate man and to hold him in contempt. You, Wondergood, have transformed your pigs into gold, yes? And I can see how your gold is being transformed back again into pigs. They will devour you, Wondergood. But I do not wish either to prattle or to lie: Throw your money into the sea or—build some new prisons and gallows. You are vain like all men. Then go on building gallows. You will be respected by serious people, while the flock in general will call you great. Or, don’t you, American from Illinois, want to get into the Pantheon?”
“No, Magnus!——”
“Blood!” cried Magnus. “Can’t you see that it is everywhere? Here it is on your boot now——”
I confess that at the moment Magnus appeared to be insane. I jerked my foot in sudden fear and only then did I perceive a dark, reddish spot on my shoe—how dastardly!
Magnus smiled and immediately regaining his composure continued calmly and without emotion: