the bricks,' said Kornel airily. 'Yes, to be sure.
There they are. Go and count them, if you like, and then
you can come to me at my house where the Vrouw du Plessis
(which was me) will give us some coffee.'

"I was watching, you may be sure, and again I saw the
wintry red swell above the white whisker, and I clenched my
hands in wrath and contempt at the creature's littleness. I
was sure he would have liked to sweep my man's courtesy
aside, and certainly the politeness had a prick in it. He
was rich, and old, and fat, with a consequence in his mien
and an air that hinted he was used to deference, and Kornel
was but a muddy brick-moulder. Yet there stood my man, so
easy in his quiet speech, so sure of himself, so dangerous
a target for contempt, that the rich man only stammered.
Kornel nodded as though he understood the invitation to be
accepted, and walked up to the house, leaving old Pagan to
count the bricks and follow.

"I kissed him as he came in. 'You've trampled his dirty
soul under your heel,' I said, 'and I love you for it. I
love to see you upright and a man of purpose; whatever
comes of it, I shall honor you always.'

"He kissed me and laughed. 'Nothing will happen, if we are
lucky,' he said. 'There is more in John Pagan than the big
stomach and the money. But we mustn't crawl to him; I'll
wager he never crawled himself when he was poor.'

"I set the coffee ready, spreading the table with a fine
cloth I had brought from Kornel's farm, one of the few
things we had taken with us, and presently in came old
Pagan. Directly I saw him I felt a doubt of him; there was
a kind of surreptitious viciousness showing in his sour
smile that warned me. He was like a man who is brewing an
unpleasant joke.

"'Ah, Mrs. du Plessis,' he said, 'your man will have been
working very hard.'

"'You know what brick-moulding is, then?' I said.

"He grinned. 'A little,' he said; 'yes, a little. There's
few jobs I haven't put a hand to in my time. Work's a fine
thing, when a man knows how to work.'

"'You are very right,' agreed Kornel.

"'This is good coffee,' said John Pagan, as he stirred his
cup. 'In fact, it's better than the bricks.'

"'A better hand was at work on it,' said Kornel.

"'So I should judge,' answered Pagan sleekly. 'I should
like another cup of this coffee, if I may trouble you, Mrs.
du Plessis.'

"He laid his cup on the table and bit his nails while I
filled it, glancing round at my poor room the