“Brother Brandt, thou speakest without proper forethought,” said Schneider; “thou knowest that in Zanah all things belong to the Lord and that thou hast not the right to say ‘my’ or ‘mine.’”
A dull red swept over the face of the school-master, and in his eyes was a look that told of rebellion in his soul.
“For the good of Zanah we might be persuaded to sell this Bible,” the Herr Doktor continued. “It is worth a great deal of money, for Brother Brandt hath spent upon it much of the time that belonged to the colony. How much wouldst thou give for it?”
“I should not think of buying the Bible if the artist who illuminated it is unwilling to give it up,” Everett declared. The fear in the school-master’s face touched his heart. For the moment Gerson Brandt had lost the look of youth which strangely sat on features that told of suffering. There was a new dignity in the gaunt figure, clad in its queer garments. Gerson Brandt’s head was thrown back and his lips were tightly closed. The habit of repression, learned in the long years of colony life, was not easily thrown off, and he stood motionless while Adolph Schneider scowled at him.
“Wouldst thou think one hundred dollars too much for the Bible?” the village president inquired. He had risen and was leaning on his cane. “Zanah needs money, for the harvests have been poor. Brother Brandt will sell the book if thou canst pay the price.”
“One hundred dollars is little enough for the Bible,” said Everett; “but we shall not discuss its purchase now.”
“Yet thou wilt buy it if it is offered to thee by Brother Brandt?” Adolph Schneider asked, persistently pressing the subject of the sale.
Everett looked straight at the school-master, and his friendly eyes gave Gerson Brandt confidence.
“I would buy it if it was cheerfully offered by Mr. Brandt,” he replied.
The village fool aroused himself and stretched lazily. Then, taking from his pocket a little yellow gourd, he marked upon it with a big pocket-knife.