Is the world so small that I cannot get away
from him, even now when he is dead? He confessed at the last that he had
betrayed the trust of the dead, and misinherited a fortune. And I was to
see to it. And I was to stand off, that my face might remind him of it.
Why _my_ face, unless it concerned _me_? I am sure of his words, for
they have been in my ears ever since. Can there be anything bearing on
them, in the keeping of this old idiot? Anything to repair my fortunes,
and blacken his memory? He dwelt upon my earliest remembrances, that
night at Basle. Why, unless he had a purpose in it?"
Maitre Voigt's two largest he-goats were butting at him to butt him out
of the place, as if for that disrespectful mention of their master. So
he got up and left the place. But he walked alone for a long time on the
border of the lake, with his head drooped in deep thought.
Between seven and eight next morning, he presented himself again at the
office. He found the notary ready for him, at work on some papers which
had come in on the previous evening. In a few clear words, Maitre Voigt
explained the routine of the office, and the duties Obenreizer would be
expected to perform. It still wanted five minutes to eight, when the
preliminary instructions were declared to be complete.
"I will show you over the house and the offices," said Maitre Voigt, "but
I must put away these papers first. They come from the municipal
authorities, and they must be taken special care of.
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