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Updated: June 3, 2025
“Go, zen,” replied the Baron, opening the door; “I haf no furzer vish to see a treacherous sponge zat vill neizer be true nor fight, bot jost takes money.” He slammed the door and went out. If he had waited for a moment, he would have seen a look in Mr Bunker’s face that he had never seen before.
Remove the corruptors, sweep the dirt from the house and the State will be clean." "It will require a very long broom!" said Paul Zouche. "Take David Jost, for example, he is the fat Jew-spider of several newspaper webs, and to sweep him out is not so easy. His printed sheets are read by the million; and the million are deluded into believing him a reliable authority!"
He knew the sanctity of that inner chamber beyond; he knew that when the Premier came to see the great Jost, as he often did, it was in that mysterious further room that business was transacted, and that it was as much as his place was worth to venture even to knock at the door.
Outwardly she was tranquil and composed; but within was a storm of conjectures, fears and hopes. What had Jost written to Dietrich about his mother; what about her? Jost had evidently let him believe that he had killed a man. What reason had Jost for deceiving him and keeping him at a distance? These questions brought the color to Veronica's cheeks as she suspected what the answers might be.
Did he write so promptly in order to frighten Dietrich into going farther away? Had he suggested to him a new address now that the old one had been discovered? She felt sure that Jost was trying to prevent anyone but himself from having any communication with Dietrich. There was not a moment to lose. What would she not have given to be able to withhold the letter! But she did not dare.
Did Jost think that she would marry him if Dietrich did not come back? or were there other reasons why he did not dare to let him come? All sorts of possible solutions flew through Veronica's head, and the conclusion she arrived at frightened her. She did not wish to suspect any one of being a rogue without good reason; yet the evidence seemed in this case to be irresistible.
"It's a bad sign his having no fayling there, Haldane," whispered the Irishman to me very low, so that Jackson could not hear. "It's jost what I thought, sure. God may help him, but I can't. He'll niver recover, do what we moight for him, niver in this worruld. The poor misfortunate fellow has his spoine injured, and he can't live forty- eight hours, if as long as that, sure!"
Blasi, you can do a neighborly kindness if you will, and it won't cost you anything;" and he handed Blasi a letter. "It is for the old Miller's widow, over there. Jost fetches her letters himself, usually; it is marked "To be called for," but he'll be glad to be spared the walk such a day as this. You can tell him he needn't come to-day, you know." Blasi took the letter.
"I can make short work of you at any rate!" said Jost, his little eyes sparkling with rage; "For I see plainly enough now that even if our plans had succeeded, you would have left me in the lurch!" "Of course!" smiled Perousse; "Are you so simple in the world's ways as not to be able to realise that such Jew pressmen as you are only made for the use of politicians?
When I had presently interpreted these words to the others, Jost Tetzel, Ursula's father, declared them to be sheer lies and knavery; even Uncle Conrad deemed them of little worth; and for this reason: that if the lad had indeed been the son of some grand Emir of Egypt the bear-leader would for certain have made profit of him by requiring his ransom.
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