Читать книгу Walda. A Novel онлайн

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“Ah, Gerson Brandt, something is troubling thee,” said Walda. “For fully two minutes I have been watching thee from the porch. What is in thy mind to rob thee thus of peace?”

“Nay, Walda, my peace is not gone, I trust,” said the school-master; but he paused, as if the assertion made him cognizant that he might not be speaking the whole truth. “I have been thinking much about the loss of my Bible.”

“Yea, that is very strange,” said Walda, standing before his desk, and looking up into his eyes with an inquiring glance. “I cannot understand what could befall it.”

“If it cannot be found, my honor is touched,” said Gerson Brandt, and there was something like a quiver on his sensitive lips. “There are those in Zanah who will count it against me, because I put overmuch work upon the book and grew to hold it as my best possession.”

“Nay, nay, Gerson Brandt, the people love thee, and they will remember the injunction that they must not judge one another.”

Gerson Brandt stepped from the high platform. Motioning towards a bench in front of the window, he said: