“The captain and the other officers had heard not a sound of the whole matter.
“The affair was ended”—the voice of the speaker grew thick; he had buried both hands in his trousers’ pockets and was gazing before him through the fumes of the smoking cigar.
“So we thought that night, as we lay in bed.—Did Little L sleep that night? In the days following, when we assembled in class, it did not seem so. Before, it had been as if an imp were sitting in the place where the lad sat, and, like a rooster, had crowed it over the whole class—now it was as if there were a void in the place—so still and pale he sat in his place.
“As when a man flicks the dust from the wings of a butterfly—so was it with the little lad—I can not describe it otherwise.
“On afternoons one always saw him now walking with his brother. He may have felt that Big L would now find less companionship than ever among the others—so he provided company for him. And there the two went, then, arm in arm, always around about the Karreehof and across the court with the trees in it, one as well as the other with head bent to the ground, so that one scarcely saw that they ever spoke a word.”
Again there came a pause in the narrative, again I had to fill the empty glass of the colonel, who smoked his cigar faster and faster.
“But all this,” he continued, “would perhaps have worn itself out in course of time and everything have gone on as before—but for people!”
He laid his clenched fist on the table.
“There are people,” said he, scowling, “who are like the poisonous weed in the field, at which beasts nibble themselves to death. With such people the rest poison themselves!
“So then, one day we were having lessons in physics. The teacher was showing us experiments on the electric machine, and an electric shock was to be passed through the whole class.