"They have always done so. And so they have lost their fields, one after another, and their forests, one after another, and become tenants where they were once masters, and gone to ruin, one after another. I have let it pass, been forced to let it pass, and always thought: Now matters can't be worse--but the worst was still in store for me. They were all reckless and frivolous; but none were wicked, not one, and after all they were men who, if need be, could live honestly by the labor of their hands. Now, now, even the old name will die out with me; only one poor helpless woman is left, who has exchanged her name for that of a man who is a good-for-nothing fellow like his forefathers; the worthless wretch will drag her down to shame with him--her shame and mine!" The old man's last words were scarcely audible; for he had buried his wrinkled face in his knotty hands. Gotthold laid his hand on his knee. "How can you talk so, Cousin Boslaf!" said he, "how can you accuse yourself of a misfortune you have been unable to prevent; you, who have always been the good genius of the house!" "The good genius of the house--great God!" The old man started up and strode hastily to the shore, where he stood with his face turned towards the sea; his white hair fluttered in the wind; he raised his arms towards the dark waters, and then let them fall again, muttering unintelligible words. Gotthold still kept by his side; had the old man become childish, or had he gone mad? "What is the matter, Cousin Boslaf?" he asked. "Cousin Boslaf!" shrieked the old man, "ay, Cousin Boslaf! He called me so, and she too, and all the rest with them and after them, my children, and children's children!" "Cousin Boslaf!" "Always Cousin Boslaf! Yes, it is quite right, and will be placed on my gravestone. I have sworn that no human being should ever hear the tale, but I can bear it no longer. One man shall learn the crime we committed against mankind, that he may forgive us our sin in the name of mankind. I have always loved you, and to-day I saved your life, so you shall be the man." He led Gotthold back to the bench. "You have probably heard of the contest I had with my Cousin Adolf about Dollan?" "Yes," replied Gotthold, "and have thought of it all very recently as I came to visit you, and in the depths of my heart praised the rare magnanimity with which you resigned the rich estate and beloved maiden to your cousin, after you learned that he was preferred by her. Emma von Dahlitz, Ulrica's confidante, brought you this message the evening before the decisive day; was it not so?"