"Death, death, death!" he cried. "Death the judge, the gaoler, the
executioner! He has done justice on them for me, and they will not break
loose from the house he has made for them to lie in and to sleep in for
ever. And now, friend Death, I am master in their stead, and you must give
me time to enjoy the mastership before you serve me likewise. Oh Vjera,
the joy, the delight, the ecstasy, the glory of it all!"
He struck the palms of his lean hands together with the gesture of a boy,
and laughed aloud in the sheer overflowing of his heart. But Vjera sat
still, silent and thoughtful, beside him, watching him rather anxiously as
though she feared lest the excess of his happiness might do him an injury.
"You do not say anything, Vjera. You do not seem glad," he said, suddenly
noticing her expression.
"I am very glad, indeed I am," she answered, smiling with a great effort.
"Who would not be glad at the thought of seeing you enjoy your own again?"
"It is not for the money, Vjera!" he exclaimed in a lower and more
concentrated tone. "It is not really for the money nor for the lands, nor
even for the position or the dignity. Do you know what it is that makes me
so happy? I have got the best of it. That is it. It has been a long
struggle and a weary one, but I knew I should win, though I never saw how
it was to be. When they turned me away from them like a dog, my father and
my brother, I faced them on the threshold for the last time and I said to
them, 'Look you, you have made an outcast of me, and yet I am your son, my
father, and your brother, my brother, and you know it.
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