“Sir,” he said evenly, “can you tell me what is intended toward me: on what I wait?”
Carstairs showed a solemn face.
“Young man,” he replied, “albeit I am not here to answer thy questioning, yet out of charity will I inform thee, that thou art shortly to be examined for thy manifold offenses.”
Jerome smiled. It was familiar phraseology.
“By whom, sir?”
“By those whom thou hast offended,” was the answer. As he spoke Carstairs rose and his spare figure looked unnaturally tall.
“God turn thee, young man, from the heathenish worship of idols that has led thee into these errors,” he said gravely. “Thou art one of the Magliants who distract this land yet, although the Lord has seen fit to remove them from their high places and set up his lowly servants.”
He put out his hand in a gesture of proud humility, and Jerome saw that his thumb was a mere shriveled stump of bone.
“Maybe there is but a little time left to thee, therefore repent swiftly lest thou lose the world everlasting as thou hast the world of the flesh.”
With this he turned slowly and left the room.