“You speak with but scant respect for the stranger within your gates,” said Everett, who was amused by the vehemence of the village fool.
Hans Peter removed his ragged cap. “Thou hast brought sorrow to Gerson Brandt,” he continued, “for thou wouldst have taken the Bible that he was making beautiful for Walda Kellar.”
Everett studied the odd little figure before him for a moment. It was the first time that Hans Peter had betrayed, in manner or countenance, the least trace of emotion. Even now, as the simple one stood blinking his eyes, the man of the world could not comprehend his motive in making the unexpected accusation.
“You seem almost excited, Hans Peter,” said Everett, presently, when the boy had begun to show that the silence was uncomfortable. “And why are you concerned about the Bible?”
“The school-master setteth great store on the Sacred Book,” replied the simple one. “He hath been kind to me, and I like not to see him troubled.”
“And is not every one kind to you, Hans Peter?”
The simple one thrust his hand into his deep pocket and hung his head.
“The people of Zanah are many times vexed with the fool,” he said. “They have scant patience with one who believes not as they do. In all the colony there are only three who seem to forget that Hans Peter is the village fool.”
“And who are they? Gerson Brandt is one, I know. Who are the others?”
“The prophetess of Zanah and Mother Werther.”