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K. M. CAPEK
495

Dean (Entering from the death chamber).—Ah me!

Hans (To Ann).—This is not the last word between us on the subject.

Dean.—Right behind the door lies the yet warm corpse of your father! The return of the Scriptural prodigal was not so tragic as yours, Jan; and I, though your uncle, have no word of welcome.

Hans.—Don’t exert yourself, uncle.

Dean.—Your arrival has cost me the life of my brother.

Hans.—Uncle!

Dean.—It would have been better for you, for me, for everybody, had you indeed perished in Siberia!

Hans.—Fortunately, you were the last person from whom I expected a welcome, and I assure you that your welcome is not what I came for. Since unavoidable circumstances have made our meeting necessary, I wish to remind you that I am no longer a boy of twenty-two, cursed by your anathema, but a Man!—a man that has traversed three-quarters of the globe. I would warn you . . .

Dean.—You warn me? Against what, for God’s love?

Hans.—Not to urge me too far. Not to compel me to ask for a settlement of accounts between us.

Dean.—There is nothing to settle, my son. Not between you and me. But there is some one may force you to settle whether you will or no.

Hans.—If you mean God, I can take care of that, I assure you, my reverend sir! My God lives in my conscience and that is at peace. But pray don’t you aggravate the load you have saddled on me. It lacked mighty little of your accusing me of the death of my father.

Dean.—Had I done so, should I have been far wrong? You came home, they tell me, and your father died. After so many years that evil deed of yours bore its fruit of destruction.

Hans.—I shall permit no one to sit in judgment over my deeds, least of all you. My evil deed! True, it did not square with your laws and hypocritical regulations, but I have never regretted the deed. It was necessary to save the man between whose temple and the mouth of a gun there was scarcely the distance of a span. I saved that man, and I do not begrudge the price I had to pay later.

Dean.—Your generosity was wasted, my boy, for that same