THE BREAKING OF THE STORM. BY FRIEDRICH SPIELHAGEN. Translated from the German BY S. E. A. H. STEPHENSON. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON. 1877. (_All Rights Reserved_.) THE BREAKING OF THE STORM. BOOK III.--_Continued_. CHAPTER III. Philip had whispered to Reinhold that he would look him up presently; Reinhold trembled for the result of a meeting between father and son, which could not have occurred at a more unfortunate moment; but it could not be helped, and he determined to employ the interval in saying a few words of comfort, after the scene that had just taken place, to the old clerk whom he had spoken to several times during the last few days, and had learnt to look upon as certainly a peculiar but an excellent and upright man. He found the old man in the little arbour at the end of the narrow walk, between the garden and the building, in the upper story of which he and Anders lived. He was sitting quite broken down on the bench, while Cilli, who was with him, wiped the drops of perspiration from his brow. She recognised Reinhold's step at once, and said, as he entered the arbour: "Thank God that you have come, sir! You were present. How did Herr Schmidt take my father's confession? From what my father says, I conclude very badly." "On the contrary, Fräulein Cilli, my uncle is of opinion that between two such old friends as himself and your father, a merely theoretic difference is of no consequence." "But if it should not stop at theory," exclaimed the old man, "if the practical consequences are carried out by everybody--" "But not by you, my dear Herr Kreisel! Answer me one question: would you take advantage of any crisis in business to force from your employer an increase of salary?" "Never!" exclaimed the old man, "never!" "You see for yourself! Though you may be perfectly right in theory, between it and practice there lies, in the minds of educated people like yourself, a long and rough road, into which you will never enter, or on which, after the first few steps, you will stand still in horror." "Ah! yes, my nerves!" murmured the old man; "my nerves are not strong enough for it. I am worn out; I believe he is right after all; an hour's sleep would do me good." He was persuaded by Reinhold and Cilli to go into the house; Reinhold went a little way with him; when he returned to the arbour, Cilli was sitting with her hands before her, and such an expression of deep sorrow and trouble on her pure, gentle face, that it went to Reinhold's heart.