s, dwindling and spiring, scarves of the starry sky, now
wide and now narrow, raced past the windows, through one that was left
open the air of the woods came in with a nocturnal raciness; and the roll
of wheels and the tune of the trotting horses sounded merrily on the ear.
Toast followed toast; glass after glass was bowed across and emptied by
the trio; and presently there began to fall upon them a luxurious spell,
under the influence of which little but the sound of quiet and
confidential laughter interrupted the long intervals of meditative
silence.

'Otto,' said Gotthold, after one of these seasons of quiet, 'I do not ask
you to forgive me. Were the parts reversed, I could not forgive you.'

'Well,' said Otto, 'it is a phrase we use. I do forgive you, but your
words and your suspicions rankle; and not yours alone. It is idle,
Colonel Gordon, in view of the order you are carrying out, to conceal
from you the dissensions of my family; they have gone so far that they
are now public property. Well, gentlemen, can I forgive my wife? I can,
of course, and do; but in what sense? I would certainly not stoop to any
revenge; as certainly I could not think of her but as one changed beyond
my recognition.'

'Allow me,' returned the Colonel. 'You will permit me to hope that I am
addressing Christians? We are all conscious, I trust, that we are
miserable sinners.'

'I disown the consciousness,' said Gotthold. 'Warmed with this good
fluid, I deny your thesis.'

'How, sir? You never did anything wrong? and I heard you asking pardon
but this moment, not of your God, sir, but of a common fellow-worm!' the
Colonel cried.

'I own you have me; you are expert in argument, Herr Oberst,' said the
Doctor.

'Begad, sir, I am proud to hear you say so,' said the Colonel. 'I was
well grounded indeed at Aberdeen. And as for this matter of forgiveness,
it comes, sir, of loose views and (what is if anything more dangerous) a
regular life. A sound creed and a bad morality, that's the root of
wisdom. You two gentlemen are too good to be forgiving.'

'The paradox is somewhat forced,' said Gotthold.

'Pardon me, Colonel,' said the Prince; 'I readily acquit you of any
design of offence, but your words bite like satire. Is this a time, do
you think, when I can wish to hear myself called good, now that I am
paying the penalty (and am willing like yourself to think it just) of my
prolonged misconduct?'

'O, pardon me!' cried t