“No idea,” chimed in Fritz, who wisely retired behind his brother’s back. “You received my letter, though?” asked Paul. “We know of no letter,” answered the elder one, staring impudently in his face. “It probably has been lost in the post,” the younger added, hastily. “Only recollect. It was the 16th of November,” said Paul. Then they remembered vaguely that a letter had been delivered to them. “But we could not make it out and threw it into the fire,” said Ulrich. “Don’t use these evasions,” Paul answered; “you know quite well what is expected of you.” They shrugged their shoulders, and looked at each other as if he were speaking Spanish to them. “I have not come to play comedy with you,” Paul continued; “you have taken away my sisters’ honor and you must restore it to them.” Ulrich scratched his head and said: “My dear Myerhofer, that is a bad business and can’t be so quickly settled. Just sit down and drink a glass of punch with us; then we shall much sooner come to an understanding.” “Yes, much sooner and more comfortably,” added Fritz, getting up to fetch two fresh glasses. “Thank you,” said Paul, “I am not thirsty.” The vague feeling was tormenting him that the brothers were laughing at him even now, as they had done all his life. Iron fetters seemed to bind his limbs; he now felt himself quite powerless and disabled. “Well, if you come to us like that,” Ulrich retorted, apparently hurt, “then we will not speak to you at all. I have no mind to have my Christmas Eve spoiled.” “And to let the punch get cold,” Fritz added. Paul gazed fixedly from one to the other. How was it possible that those who had so covered themselves with shame could stand before him so proud and impudent, while he, who only came to ask for his rights, trembled and shook like a criminal! “And if you go home without any consolation!” cried an anxious voice within him. “Do not make them angry; remember what you have vowed to your mother! There must be no question of yourself.” “Well, will you drink or won’t you?” Ulrich called out, angrily. “There must be no question of yourself,” cried the voice again. Then he bowed his head, and said, in a husky voice, “Well, then, please.” The two brothers glanced at each other and smiled, and Fritz, raising his glass, said, “Merry Christmas!” “A merry Christmas,” he stammered, and swallowed the hot beverage, almost choking, for he was overcome with disgust. Now he sat in good-fellowship at the same table with the two brothers, he who ought to have been there as an avenger.