"But what are you going to use it for?" questioned the professor,
settling his spectacles on his nose, and leaning across the table in his
earnestness.
"The men I have mentioned used theirs to invent, or confirm, or
overthrow, religious sects, and perhaps they couldn't have done better
in their age. Their names are as well known now as ever, and that's the
best test. But I hope I may discover a better method. I shall have the
advantage of their experience and mistakes. Perhaps I shall develop and
carry out to its conclusion the dogma of Christianity. That would be
well as a beginning."
"Very well, that's certain!" assented the professor, dryly. "It's all I
shall be able to give you any assistance in, too, so we needn't discuss
what the next step will be. By-the-way, did you ever hear of doing any
thing for the glory of God, and for the love of your fellow-men?"
"Oh, yes! they're pass-words of the profession, and have their use,"
returned Bressant, with another of his keen smiles. "If you want to
climb above the world, the rounds in your ladder must be made of common
woods that everybody knows the names of. The Bible is full of such, and
some of them are works of genius in themselves. After all, it is the
people who must immortalize us, and we must feed them with what they are
in the habit of eating."
"What induced you to come here, sir?" asked the professor, abruptly.
"I never should have come of myself," answered the young man, with
entire frankness. "I never heard your name mentioned until less than a
year ago. It was the first time my father was expecting to die. He told
me you were a wise man, and learned besides; he had known you when you
were young; you would have some interest in teaching me; he would feel
more at ease to die, if he knew you were directing me. I thought it
over, as I said, and decided to come. Understand, I knew of no one
except you, and I didn't want to go to a theological school."
"Humph!" grunted the professor, who was by no means well satisfied with
the prospect, yet had reasons of his own for taking up the matter if
possible. He smoked for a while longer, and Bressant resumed his book.
"By-the-way, about this incognito of yours," said the former at
length, laying aside his pipe, and taking off his straw hat: he had
forgotten to remove it on entering, and it had been oppressing him with
a sense of vague inconvenience ever since. "What is the meaning of it?
Do you mean to keep it strict? Is the idea you own?"
"Oh, no! I heard nothing of it till after my father was dead. It was
Mrs. Vanderplanck--she who wrote you the letter--who first spoke to me
of it, and said he had desired it. I don't know what the necessity of it
is, but it must be kept a strict secret. Should any one besides you know
who I am, I stand in danger of losing my fortune."