"I will explain it to you, if you will not be angry with me."
"I am never angry with you."
"Very well. You see, it is like this: you have brought your son up badly and have turned him loose upon the world, as I threw that stick into the water. He has incurred debts—that was the first wave. Then you reduced the workmen's pay—that was the second. Gosławski's death was the third; the troubles in the factory and the newspaper scandals were the fourth; and so on with the dismissal of the hands and the lawsuit. What will the tenth wave be?"
"That does not concern me," said Adler. "Let your waves go out into the world and frighten fools; I am not interested in them."
The pastor pointed to a cork he had just thrown on to the surface.
"Look, Gottlieb, sometimes it is the tenth wave which rebounds on the shore and returns to where it came from."
The old mill-owner reflected for a while on this demonstration, which was quite clear, and for a brief moment it seemed as if he were hesitating, as if an indefinable fear had sprung up in him. But it was only for a moment. Adler had too little imagination and reasoned too obstinately to foresee remote possibilities. He convinced himself that the pastor was talking drivel and preaching one of his sermons, so he laughed and replied in his thick voice:
"No, no, Martin; I have taken proper precautions to prevent your waves from returning to me."
"How can you tell?"
"The doctor will not come back, nor the leaders of the strike, nor the fines, nor even Gosławski!"