“Yes; I shall seek the gentlemen, and bring them with me,” he graciously replied. “Thanks; I will then await you.” Splittgerber departed, and Marie returned to Ebenstreit who, amazed, muttered some unintelligible words, having listened to her mysterious conversation with the old book-keeper. “Now to you, sir!” said she, her whole tone and manner changing to harsh command; “the hour for settling our accounts has arrived--the hour that I have awaited, purchasing it by four years of torture, self-contempt, and despair. This comedy is at an end. I will buy of you my freedom. Do you hear me? I will cast off these galley-chains. I will be free!” “Oh, Marie!” he cried, retreating in terror, “with what fearful detestation you regard me!” “Do you wonder at it? Have I ever concealed this hate from you, or ever given you hope to believe that a reconciliation would be possible between us?” “No, truly you have not, but now you will forgive me, for you know how I love you, and have provided for your future. You will remain rich, and I shall be poor.” Marie regarded him with unspeakable contempt. “You are more despicable than I thought you were. You do not deserve forbearance or pity, for you are a dishonorable bankrupt, who cares not how much others may suffer, provided his future is secured. I will not, however, suffer the name which I have borne against my will, to be defamed and become a mark for scorn. I will compel you to remain an honest man, and be just to your creditors. I propose to pay the bills of exchange, which will be presented to you to-day, provided you will consent to my conditions.” “Oh, Marie, you are an angel!” he cried, rushing toward her and kneeling at her feet, “I will do all that you wish, and consent to every thing you propose.” “Will you swear it?” she coldly replied. “I swear that I accept your conditions.” “Bring the writing-materials from the window-niche, and seat yourself by this table.” Ebenstreit brought them, and seated himself by the Florentine mosaic table, near which Marie was standing. She drew from her pocket a paper, which she unfolded and placed before him to sign. “Sign this with your full name, and add, ‘With my own free will and consent,’” she commandingly ordered him. “But you will first make known to me the contents?” “You have sworn to sign it,” she said, “and unless you accept my conditions, you are welcome to be incarcerated for life in the debtor’s prison. You have only to choose. If you decide in the negative, I will exert myself that your creditors do not free you. I should trust in the justice of God having sent you there, and that man in miserable pity should not act against His will in freeing you. Now decide; will you sign the paper, or go to prison as a dishonorable bankrupt?” He hastily seized the pen and wrote his name, handing the paper to Marie, sighing.