our to the accused, whom I do not
know, but from old friendship to yourself. You will not listen to me,
and I wash my hands in innocence. But I tell you a day will come when
you will think of my words and of this hour with repentance, alas, too
late!"

He left the room. Erasmus went to the window to cool the angry glow
upon his face in the fresh air, when he saw the gouty Schindel, who was
being carried in a chair by servants towards the burgomaster's house.

"Nothing was wanting but the old gossip with his tedious conciliatory
efforts," exclaimed Erasmus, and running out he gave the servant strict
orders to show the door to Schindel.

The servant went, and when the burgomaster returned to his room, the
preacher Samuel, of St. Mary's church, a gloomy zealot, forced himself
upon him to condole with the powerful regent on the death of his son.
With infinite unction he groaned out, "If, worthy sir, it is sad,
mournful, pitiable, and most grievous to lose a dear, beloved child by
a natural death, how much more sad, mournful, pitiable, and grievous
must it be for a father when a healthful son is snatched from him
through God's severe, though wise and gracious dispensation, by so
sudden, violent, and horrid a death, without first having time to
confess and repent his errors, so that in the full flower of his sins
he is hurried away before the eternal judgment-seat!"

"For God's sake, comfort better, Mr. Preacher," cried Erasmus angrily:
"You pour aqua-fortis instead of balsam into the wounds of a father's
heart."

"The heart of man is an obstinate thing," replied the preacher; "it
must be utterly torn and crushed that it may become truly sensible of
the consolation of the Gospel; and if you will only allow me a short
time, I will undertake so to work upon you, that you shall with
pleasure kiss the hand which has struck you thus hardly, and, like a
true Christian, shall attune a rejoicing Hosannah on the grave of your
murdered son."

During this harangue the brow of Erasmus grew mightily wrinkled, and he
was about to answer the wretched comforter in no very friendly way,
when the door opened, and Althea entered, leading her boy.

"This is not to be borne!" he exclaimed to her. "We have nothing more
to say to each other, Frau von Netz, and I consider it highly indecent
that you should force yourself upon me in this way, unannounced, only
to burthen me with entreaties, which my oath forbids my hearkening to."

"Misfort