He was a godly
man, and when he saw confusion in the ranks of the Philistines, he
rejoiced.
"I can't help who was damned," said I. "My job is to live in peace
with my neighbors. St. Polycarp's people may hang their Virtues
wherever they please, for all of me."
Did a faint, faint shade of regret flit over the parchment-like
face? It seemed so to me. But he said, composedly:
"You must act according to your best judgment. And now, please, let
us go back to Mr. Nicholas Jelnik."
We rather prided ourselves upon the possession of so pleasant a
neighbor, and we said so. He had helped us with our garden, and it
was he who selected the spot upon which the resurrected Love should
be set up.
"Ah, yes, the statue, brought from Italy by Richard Hynds, a great
grandfather of his. Did he tell you anything about Richard?" asked
the judge.
"Nothing."
"I shall have to go a long way back, more than a hundred years, to
make you understand," said the judge. "When I was a boy some of the
oldest folk here in Hyndsville used to say that Hynds House never
should have come to Freeman Hynds, Mrs. Scarlett's father; but to
Richard Hynds, his elder brother--that same Richard whose initials
are cut in the base of the statue he brought in his pagan
godlessness from Italy, and which his brother afterward buried,
wishing to remove all trace of him and his follies.
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