you. . . ."

"And I hate him," said the smith, curtly and resolutely. "Did he hurt
you?"

"Your hate hurts me ten times as much! You judge without examining; yes,
father, you do! When he assaulted me, he was in the right. He thought I
had insulted his mother."

Adam shrugged his shoulders, and she continued "The poor woman is dead.
Ulrich brought you yonder ring; she never parted with it."

The armorer started, seized the golden hoop, looked for the date inside,
and when he had found it, clasped the ring in his hands and pressed them
silently to his temples. He stood in this attitude a short time, then let
his arms fall, and said softly:

"The dead must be forgiven. . . ."

"And the living, father? You have punished him terribly, and he is not a
wicked man, no, indeed he is not! If he comes back again, father?"

"My apprentices shall show the Spanish mutineer the door," cried the old
man in a harsh, stern tone; "to the burgher's repentant son my house will
be always open."

Meantime the Eletto wandered from one street to another. He felt
bewildered, disgraced.

It was not grief--no quiet heartache that disturbed--but a confused
blending of wrath and sorrow. He did not wish to appear before the friend
of his youth, and even avoided Hans Eitelfritz, who came towards him. He
was blind to the gay, joyous bustle of the capital; life seemed grey and
hollow. His intention of communicating with the commandant of the citadel
remained unexecuted; for he thought of nothing but his father's anger, of
Ruth, his own shame and misery.

He could not leave so.

His father must, yes, he must hear him, and when it grew dusk, he again
sought the house to which he belonged, and from which he had been so
cruelly expelled.

The door was locked. In reply to his knock, a man's unfamiliar voice
asked who he was, and what he wanted.

He asked to speak with Adam, and called himself Ulrich.

After waiting a long time he heard a door torn open, and the smith
angrily exclaim:

"To your spinning-wheel! Whoever clings to him so long as he wears the
Spanish dress, means evil to him as well as to me."

"But hear him! You must hear him, father!" cried Ruth.

The door closed, heavy steps approached the door of the house; it opened,
and again Adam confronted his son.

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

"To speak to you, to tell you that you did wrong to insult me unheard."

"Are you still the Eletto? Answer!"

"I am!"

"An