"There is some truth in that," answered Boehme.
"There is no truth whatsoever in it," shouted the mill-owner. "I have worked much harder than Gosławski, every German workman works harder; and as for the doctor, he might just as well have been absent from the factory to visit a patient, as he was from town at that particular moment."
"The bone-setter might have been there at any rate," observed the pastor.
Adler gave no answer. He walked up and down the room with long strides, breathing hard.
"Let us go into the garden," he proposed. "Johann, take a bottle of hock into the summer-house."
The pleasant coolness in the summer-house near the pond, the freshness of the wind rustling in the trees, and perhaps the glass of good wine, gradually soothed Adler. Pastor Boehme looked at him over the rim of his gold spectacles, and seeing him in a better mood, resolved to return to the attack.
"Well," he said, clinking his glass against Adler's, "a man who keeps such excellent wine as this cannot have a bad heart. Let them off their fines, Gottlieb, take them all on again, and install a doctor.... Your health!"
"I will drink your health, Martin, but I promise nothing of the sort," repeated the mill-owner, although his anger had somewhat cooled.
The pastor shook his head, and muttered:
"H'm! it's a pity you are so obstinate!"