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Pale with fright, the Council and deputation of merchants had flocked around Von Kircheisen to protect him from the advancing soldiers who sought to arrest him, while he, in the midst of all the horror and tumult, continued to giggle and make grimaces.
"You are the head of police for the city of Berlin, and you have nothing more to tell me than any policemen might know. You inform me of the number of arrivals and departures, of the births and deaths, and of the thefts which have been committed, and that is the extent of your report." "But I cannot inform your majesty of things that have not occurred," returned Baron von Kircheisen.
Baron von Kircheisen, the prefect of Berlin, entered the room. He came to make his weekly report to the king. His respectful greeting was returned merely by a dark side-glance, and the king listened to his report with evident displeasure. "And that is your entire report?" asked his majesty, when the prefect had finished.
It was written thus: "The half of the sum is awarded by the king to President von Kircheisen, as detective and informer." "A worthy title, 'detective and informer," continued Gotzkowsky. "By Heaven, I do not envy him it! But now you shall know all. It does me good to confide to you my sorrows it lightens my poor heart. And now I have another fear.
The wagon was stopped at the gates of Berlin, and the money was discovered where they knew it was beforehand, under this false bottom. But who do you think it was, Bertram, who denounced me in this affair? You would never guess it the chief burgomaster, President von Kircheisen! He stood himself at the gate, watched for the wagon, and searched until he found the money." "Kircheisen!
This hour had now arrived, but Herr von Kircheisen did not bless it; on the contrary, he cursed it. He was standing at the window of his ground floor when Gotzkowsky passed by. Their eyes met. Gotzkowsky's were clear and penetrating; Kircheisen's were cast down, as he stepped back from the window.
Foremost came the chief burgomaster Von Kircheisen, who had recovered his speech and his mind, and was memorizing the well-set speech in which he was to offer to the general the thanks of the town and the ten thousand ducats, which a page bore alongside of him on a silken pillow.
The members of the Council implored and besought him to put aside this unnatural stubbornness. Von Kircheisen answered their pleadings with a loud-sounding laugh. He then stared at the general, his features worked and struggled, writhed, and finally he opened his mouth. "Ah! God be praised, he is going to speak," cried the second burgomaster. But no, he did not speak; he only distorted his face.
Have you no request to make for yourself?" "Oh, yes, indeed!" cried Gotzkowsky, "I beg you to allow me to hasten to the Council-hall to report to the elders of the citizens your kind promise." General Bachmann nodded affably to him. "Hasten then, and return soon." But as Gotzkowsky turned to hasten away, Herr von Kircheisen seized him with a convulsive grasp and drew him back.
"But," said Herr von Kircheisen, pathetically, "there are nevertheless circumstances which render impossible the fulfilment of an obligation." Gotzkowsky answered ardently: "If such do occur, the man of honor dies when he cannot fulfil his word. But you you do not wish to die. Oh no! You wish to break your word in order to live pleasantly. You wish to profit by your breach of promise.
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