But Mr. Sipos tore his hand passionately from the young man's grasp and said in a somewhat rougher tone: "But suppose your dead father were to say: 'That is not true! You have not watched over my son as a father should! You have lightly left him to himself. He was in danger and you were unaware of it. He hovered on the edge of the abyss and you were blind and saw nothing. And if God and my dead hand had not defended him, he would have become a suicide and you knew it not—wherefore?'"—
The young man trembled at these words, he grew even paler than before and gazed with a look of stupefaction at his chief. Then the old man approached him, and took him by the hand as if he would say: "I am going to scold you, but fear nothing. I am on your side."
"My dear Szilard," said he, "don't you recollect that when you were a little child and did anything you should not have done, and your father questioned you about it, did he not always say to you: 'when you have done wrong and are ashamed to confess it, keep silence! press your teeth together! but don't lie, don't deny it, never think of taking refuge behind any false excuse, for your name is Szilard,[3] and cowardice does not become the bearer of such a name!' You understood him. You acted as he would have had you act. And now I also would remind you once more that you were christened Szilard and I ask you therefore to listen calmly to what I am about to say to you. Don't interrupt, don't attempt to deceive me. If you don't want to answer my questions, simply shake your head! And now sit down, my son! You are still barely convalescent. Your head is weak and what I have to say to you might very well make it reel again."
[3] Strong, firm.
Then the old lawyer tenderly pressed the youth into a chair and sighing deeply, thus continued: "You fell in love with the daughter of a great family and she with you. You got acquainted at a dance and the intimacy did not stop there. Every conceivable obstacle intervened between you, but love is artful and inventive and you found a way. The rich girl had a neglected brother whom his relations sent to the grammar school and the rascal frequently took refuge with me, the family attorney, when he was ill-treated at home, and here you came across him. You cared for him and explained to him the difficulties in his lessons which he was unable to do for himself. The boy grew very fond of you. He spoke to you of your beloved, and he spoke to her of you, and he was always praising each of you to the other. The grandfather, the uncle, the aunt, the governess, the domestics who never took their eyes off the girl for an instant, had no idea that she was already involved in a love affair. But amazing is the ingenuity of love and lovers! You knew that none of the older members of the family understood the classical language of the orators, and the girl loved so dearly that she did not consider it too great a labour to learn a dead tongue which could be of no further use to her in order to be able to say to her beloved: Ego te in aeternum amabo! One must admit that that was a great and noble sacrifice. Every day you corresponded with each other. Before school time the girl dictated his lessons to her young brother, beginning with the usual scholastic flowers of rhetoric but ending in the passionate voice of love, and after school was over, you, in your turn dictated a similar lesson for the lad to carry back with him. Naturally, this lesson book he never took to school with him; you kept the other here, the genuine one which he had to show to his masters. And this ingenious smuggling was carried on beneath the very eyes of the family without their perceiving it. Yet at last it was discovered. This very day, only an hour ago, the old head of the family placed these papers in my hands that I might read them, informing me at the same time that he had already read a translation of them. Terrible were the things I discovered in these papers. The appearance of a rich and noble suitor who, according to the notions of the world, was just made for the girl, frustrated all your plans of waiting patiently for better times. The family forced this union upon the girl. You, in your despair, racked your brain as to what you should do. At first you resolved upon an elopement, but the redoubled vigilance with which every step of the young girl was watched made this impossible. Then a black and terrible thought occurred to you both. You resolved to kill yourselves—it was your one remaining means of deliverance. Yes, you resolved to kill yourselves at once, on the self-same day, in the self-same manner. For many days you deliberated together as to the best way of accomplishing your design. Great caution was necessary. You had to pick your words lest the little brother who wrote them down from dictation should have guessed your intentions. The girl asked you, at last, to send her a book on natural science. You sent it to her. She, with the help of it tried to find out what sorts of poisons could be most easily procured. For two whole days you deliberated together as to the best way of obtaining matches, the phosphorus of which is the most efficacious of poisons. But in vain. In great houses only the domestics have charge of the matches, it was impossible to get any. At last the girl hit on an expedient. She discovered that if you put a copper coin in a glass dish and pour strong vinegar over it, verdegris will be formed and verdegris is poison. Your minds were at once made up. The girl prepared poison for herself and taught you to do the same. . . . Merciful Heaven! what notions children do get into their heads to be sure."
CHAPTER V
SHE IS NOT FOR YOU
Up to this moment the youth had listened to the lecture in silence, but now he arose and said in a calm clear voice: "'Tis all true; it is so!"
"I should say it was all very bad, very bad indeed!" said the lawyer vehemently, as if completing a broken sentence. "What! Children to meditate suicide because things in this world don't go exactly according to their liking! Have you never regarded the affair from its practical side? Did you imagine that the girl's relations would support you? And would you yourself endure to be their pensioner, their butt, the scorn of the very domestics, for a poor son-in-law is the standing jest of the very flunkeys—you ought to know that!"