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"There must be some one for the duke to punish," heroically; "otherwise he will refuse." "Still, suppose I bargain for you, too?" "When you tell him my name is Breunner there will be no bargaining." "What has this clock-mender to do with the case?" "He is Count von Arnsberg." "By George! And this Gipsy?" "The man who bribed me.
"You say she wore the costume of a Gipsy child when you lost her?" said the duke. "Yes." Von Arnsberg took from under his coat a small bundle which he opened with shaking fingers. He had been in the Krumerweg that afternoon. "Why, those are mine!" exclaimed Gretchen excitedly. "You see?" said Von Arnsberg. "Would you not like to be a princess, Gretchen?" A princess? Gretchen's heart fluttered.
When I recollect what I have suffered at your hands! If only the late king were here, my joy would be complete!" "Your Highness," said Von Arnsberg quietly, "all I have left in the world are these two withered hands, and may God cut them off if they ever wronged you in any act. I am innocent. Those letters purported to have been written by me were forgeries.
This will be Arnsberg. But" mildly "who may say that it is not a cunning forgery?" "Forgery!" roared the duke. "Read this one from the late king of Jugendheit to Arnsberg, then, if you still doubt." Herbeck read slowly and carefully. Then he rose and walked to the nearest window, studying the letter again in the sharper light.
"Wrong, wrong, Justice!" cried the Collector. "Here below everything was occupied and blocked up by the Cherusci, Catti, and Sigambri. No the battle was much farther south, near the region of the Ruhr, not far from Arnsberg.
Now, you persist in averring that the late king was the chief conspirator in abducting her serene highness, aided by Arnsberg, whose successor I have the honor to be. I have never yet seen any proofs. You have never yet produced them. Show me something which absolutely convicts them, and I'll surrender." "On your honor?" "My word." The grand duke struck the bell on the chancellor's desk.
"Your highness does not recognize me, then?" asked the clock-mender. "Come closer," commanded the duke. The clock-mender obeyed. "Take off those spectacles." The duke scanned the features, and over his own came the dawn of recollection. "Your eyes, your nose Arnsberg, here and alive? Oh, this is too good to be true!" The duke reached out toward the bell, but Carmichael interposed.
"That is the hand, Highness," said the Gipsy, without hesitation. The duke flung the hand aside. As he did so something snapped in Herbeck's brain, though at that instant he was not conscious of it. "It was you, you! It was your hand that wrecked my life, yours! Ah, is there such villainy? Are such men born and do they live? My wife dead, my own heart broken, Arnsberg ruined and disgraced!
Arnsberg is an innocent man; but this has to be proved, and you are going to help us prove it." All this was in English; the Gipsy and the former chancellor understood little or nothing. "I will do what I can, Hans, and I will let you know the result after dinner to-night." "That will be enough. But unless he concedes, do not tell him our names. That would be ruin and nothing gained."
For fear that the little highness might be recognized as we traveled, we changed her clothes. He took them, together with the locket. One day the soldiers appeared in the distance. We all fled. We lost the little highness, and none of us ever knew what became of her. She wore the costume of my own children." "We shall produce that in time," said Von Arnsberg.
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