Presently, Mr. Higgins turned his large gray eyes on me, and said:
"Ha!"
After this, he remained in a thoughtful reverie for two hours, and then turning to me, asked:
"Galushiana, what do you think of me?"
"I think," replied I, carefully putting the blacking-brush in its place, "that your nature is naturally a noble one, but has been warped and shadowed by a misconceived impression of the great arcana of the universe. You permit the genuflexions of human sin to bias your mind in its estimate of the true economy of creation; thus blighting, as it were, the fructifying evidences of your own abstract being—"
I blushed, and feared I had gone too far.
"Very true," responded Mr. Higgins, after a moment's pause; "Schiller says nearly the same thing. It was a sense of man's utter nothingness that led me to kill my grandmother, and poison the helpless offspring of my elder brother."
Here Mr. Higgins held down his head and quivered with emotions, as the ocean quakes under the shrieking howl of the blast.
I felt my whole being convulsed, and could not endure the spectacle. I stole softly to the door, and stammered through my tears, "Good-night, Mr. Higgins, I will pray for you."
He did not turn his noble head, but said, in firm tones: "Poor little beast, good night."