"Where the devil did you come from?" he asked in a shrill voice.
"From my dead master!" came Capper's answer, clear and strong.
"Get out of my house, you madman!" exclaimed the doctor, taking a step towards him; but the other did not move. "What do you want with me?"
"I want to remain near you; I never mean to leave you again on this side of the grave," said Capper.
"Are you going to kill me?" asked the other. "Do you mean murder?"
"I don't mean to kill you—yet," replied the other. In the strangest fashion he seated himself on the top step, and folded his arms and waited.
Bardolph Just walked away a little, and then came back. I could see that, apart from his dread of the other man, he did not know what to do, nor how to meet this amazing situation. He took out a cigar from his case and lighted it, and strolled up and down there, alternately watching the little man seated above him, and studying the ground as though seeking for a solution of the difficulty. At last he decided to drop threatening, and to try if he might not win the man over.
"Look here, my good Capper," he said, "I've no reason to love you, but I think you're merely a poor, half-witted creature, who should be more pitied than blamed. I don't want to have any trouble with you, but most decidedly I don't want to be subjected to your violence. I want to come into my house.'"
"Come in by all means," said the little man, getting to his feet; "and I will not use violence."
Seeing that the doctor still hesitated, I thought I might at least show myself. I was, above all things, anxious to see the end of the business. My concern was with Capper chiefly. I could not see for the life of me what he would do in trying conclusions with a man of the physique of Bardolph Just. Above all things, I did not want it to happen that the doctor should gain a victory.