a terrible accusation that I must pronounce: if not condemned to
death, the king will imprison him for many long years, and I shall
be responsible for this injustice."

Councillor Zetto's attentive ear heard every word; he stood near him
like the evil one, and his piercing eyes rested upon the agitated
countenance of Weingarten and read his thoughts.

"Have you not lived the life of a prisoner for many years?" asked
Zetto, in a low, unnatural voice; "have you not always been a slave
of poverty? Will you now, from weak pity, lose the opportunity of
freeing yourself from this bondage? Ten thousand guilders is no
fortune, but it may be the beginning of one--it may be the thread of
Ariadne to lead you from the labyrinth of poverty to freedom and
light; and who will thank you if you do not seize this thread--who
recompense you for your generosity and magnanimity? If you tell it
to the wise and cunning, they will laugh at you, and if the foolish
hear it, they will not understand you. Every one is the moulder of
his own happiness, and woe unto him who neglects to forge the iron
while it is hot!"

Baron Weingarten felt each of these words. He did not know if they
were uttered by human lips, or if they came from the depths of his
own base soul.

"It is true, it is true!" he cried, in a frightened voice, "He is a
fool who does not seize the hand of Fortune when tendered by the
laughing goddess--a fool who does not break his fetters when he has
the power to rend them. Come, gentlemen! We take the testimony, and
when that is done, I will conduct you to our ambassador, Baron