"You have long been known to me as a shrewd advocate," answered Erasmus with mockery; "but the _Carolina_[3] has not yet been formally published to us, and above all things the act of self-defence should have been proved. The mouth of my poor son is shut, the declaration of the accused and of his servant proves nothing." "There was also a page of Tausdorf's present; and a woman saw the battle from the garden-wall. In the testimony of three witnesses consists truth." "The witnesses of whom you speak," replied the burgomaster, confused, "did not present themselves for examination. It was, besides, for the judges to decide whether their examination was requisite." "But I think, Mr. Burgomaster, it was for your own honour to seek out these witnesses, and to defer the execution of the sentence till then, that it might not be said you wished to destroy the accused from a wretched spirit of revenge." "I am weary of your insolence; instantly take yourself out of my four walls, Mr. Doctor, or I shall give you lodgings in the Hildebrand as a malcontent and fomenter of discord; they are just now vacant." "You thrust your better angel from your side," replied Heidenreich sadly. "I have not spoken out of favour 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."