Walda | Page 6

as he turned the pages Everett, who stood beside him, felt an over whelming desire to possess the volume. The old German text was printed upon parchment. The pages had broad margins, and the letters beginning the chapters were illuminated with designs so delicate and so minutely worked out that each repaid long study. The coloring was exquisite, and gold, of a brilliancy equalled in few books Everett had ever seen, was applied with a generous hand.
"How long have you worked on it?" he asked.
"Five years," the school-master said, "and it is not finished yet." Gerson Brandt loosened the linen that he might display the binding of calfskin. On the front cover was a monogram, but before Everett could decipher the letters the linen was replaced.
"This is a beautiful bo0k," said Everett, taking it in his hand and turning the pages. "I would give much for it. Will you sell it to me?"
Gerson Brandt's thin face paled. He stretched out a trembling hand and seized the Bible as he an swered, coldly:
"This book was not made to be bartered to any man. It is mine. If there is aught in it that commands thy favor it is because the making of the letters has been a pleasant labor done with all my heart."
The school-master held the volume close to his breast. The simple one, who had not left his place on the stool, opened his eyes. The Herr Doktor glanced from beneath his bushy brows with a look of surprise.
"Brother Brandt, thou speakest without proper forethought," said Schneider; "thou knowest that in Zanah all things belong to the Lord and that thou hast not the right to say my or mine."
A dull red swept over the face of the school-master, and in his eyes was a look that told of rebellion in his soul.
"For the good of Zanah we might be persuaded to sell this Bible," the Herr Doktor continued. "It is worth a great deal of money, for Brother Brandt hath spent upon it much of the time that belonged to the colony. How much wouldst thou give for it?"
"I should not think of buying the Bible if the artist who illuminated it is unwilling to give it up," Everett declared. The fear in the school-master's face touched his heart. For the moment Gerson Brandt had lost the look of youth which strangely sat on features that told of suffering. There was a new dignity in the gaunt figure, clad in its queer garments. Gerson Brandt's head was thrown back and his lips were tightly closed. The habit of repression, learned in the long years of colony life, was not easily thrown off, and he stood motionless while Adolph Schneider scowled at him.
"Wouldst thou think one hundred dollars too much for the Bible?" the village president inquired. He had risen and was leaning on his cane. Zanah needs money, for the harvests have been poor. Brother Brandt will sell the book if thou canst pay the price."
"One hundred dollars is little enough for the Bible," said Everett; "but we shall not discuss its purchase now."
"Yet thou wilt buy it if it is offered to thee by Brother Brandt?" Adolph Schneider asked, persistently pressing the subject of the sale. Everett looked straight at the school-master, and his friendly eyes gave Gerson Brandt confidence.
"I would buy it if it was cheerfully offered by Mr. Brandt," he replied.
The village fool aroused himself and stretched lazily. Then, taking from his pocket a little yellow gourd, he marked upon it with a big pocket-knife.
As Schneider and Everett left the school-house they saw that something unusual had happened, for a crowd was moving up the street. Women were leaning over fences. Children followed the crowd at a distance.
The Herr Doktor stood for a moment as if uncertain what to do. It was quite impossible for him to hasten, and he was of a phlegmatic nature not easily excited.
"Some one must be hurt," Everett remarked. "I think they are carrying a man."
In an instant Hans Peter had run down the hill. The school-master, who had remained in the school-house to put away the precious Bible, came to the door to look out. The crowd had crossed the rustic bridge.
"They are coming here," Gerson Brandt exclaimed. "Can it be that aught hath happened to Wilhelm Kellar?"
He hastened down the street, and Schneider stepped out on the sidewalk.
"Wilhelm Kellar hath charge of our flannel-mill. He liveth with Brother Brandt," explained the Herr Doktor. "I trust that no accident hath befallen him."
It was plain that Adolph Schneider's anxiety was twofold, and that he thought of the loss which might be unavoidable in case the mill superintendent be came incapacitated.
When Everett and the Herr Doktor met the villagers, Gerson Brandt had stopped the crowd and was bending over the rude