gave evidence
of weakened will and fading energy.

Hardly had he reached home when Daniel was announced. "You have the
boldness, Sir," he cried out to Daniel on his entering. "You have the
boldness to appear in my sight? By the gods above, you are going far!"

"I will accept any challenge you make," said Daniel, with the chilly
dignity that was characteristic of him in such circumstances and that
never failed to have a sobering effect on his potential antagonist. "I
have nothing to fear. I should like to live in peace with the father of
my wife, and for this reason I have come to you."

"Do you know what you are doing to me? You have stolen my daughter,
man!" cried Doederlein with pathos. "But just wait. I will checkmate your
plans. I will make you feel the full measure of my power."

Daniel smiled contemptuously. "I am certain of that," he replied. "I
will feel your power as long as I live; I have always felt it. But I
have never submitted to it, and up to the present I have always been
able to break it. Think it over! Recall my past history! And devote a
few of your meditative moments to your child. Adieu!" With that Daniel
left.

Andreas Doederlein was ill at ease. The man's smile followed him wherever
he went. What could the desperado be planning? A bad conscience
paralyses evil determinations. For more than a week, Doederlein waged
perpetual war with his pride. And then? Daniel did not allow himself to
be seen; he received no news of any kind from Dorothea; and, climax of
it all, Herr Weisskopf notified him that his note for one thousand
marks, with interest, was due. Doederlein saw that there was nothing to
be done about it all except to recognise the denouement as a fact and
not as a stage scene. And one day he hobbled up the steps of the house
on AEgydius Place.

"I am glad to see you," said Daniel as he reached out his hand to his
visitor.

Andreas Doederlein spoke of a father's bleeding heart, of the crushing of
proud hopes, of the impiety of youth, and the lonesomeness of old age.
And then, rather disconnectedly, beating a tattoo with the fingers of
his big hand on the top of the table, he spoke of the constraint in
which he found himself with reference to the opulent owner of the mill.
He told Daniel he had gone on a man's note, had been suddenly obliged to
redeem the note, and not having so much ready money at his disposal, had
accepted a loan from the rich aspirant for Dorothea's hand.

Daniel w