“The one doesn’t interfere with the other, and Vasia can be a judge too—not now, but later on. It’s an old story. For instance, I am Tiburtsi, he is Valek; I am a beggar, he is a beggar. In fact, to speak frankly, I steal and he will steal too. Your father tries me now; very well then, some day you will try Valek. There you have it!”
“I shan’t try Valek,” I answered gloomily. “That isn’t true.”
“He won’t try Valek,” Marusia spoke up for me, confidently dismissing such an atrocious supposition.
The little girl nestled confidingly against the legs of this monster, and he tenderly stroked her curls with his sinewy hand.
“Don’t say that too soon,” said the strange fellow pensively, turning to me and speaking as if I were a grown man. “Don’t say that, amice! It’s an old story; every man to his own, suum cuique; every one must go his own way, and who knows, perhaps it’s a good thing that your path has crossed ours. It’s a good thing for you, amice, because it’s a good thing to have a human heart in one’s breast and not a cold stone—do you understand?”
I understood nothing, but nevertheless I fixed my gaze on this queer person’s face. Tiburtsi’s eyes were looking deeply into mine, and there gleamed dimly in them something that seemed to pierce into my very soul.
“Of course you don’t understand, because you are still a child. Therefore let me tell you briefly that you may some day remember the words of the philosopher Tiburtsi. If you ever find yourself sitting in judgment upon that boy there, remember that even in the days when you were both silly little lads playing together, you were travelling upon the road where men walk well-clothed and well-fed, while he was running along, a ragged sans-culotte with an empty belly. And besides, until that happens, remember one thing well,” he added, sharply changing his tone. “If you whisper one word of what you have seen here to that Judge of yours, or even to a bird, as sure as my name is Tiburtsi Drab I’ll hang you up by the heels in that fireplace and make roast ham of you. You understand that, I hope?”
“I won’t tell any one—I—may I come again?”
“You may, I give you my permission—sum conditionem—but you’re stupid yet and don’t understand Latin. I have already told you about that ham—now remember!”
He let me go, and stretched himself wearily on a bench by the wall.