n the old days, between his office and
his workshop, he had pulled at his long cigar and sent up careless,
lordly, captain-of-industry clouds. Then he went to sleep, and while
his dreams conjured up the picture of his vanished greatness in all its
glory, he stuck up his red and swollen nose into the air with the same
proud contempt of the world as in his best days.

In the middle of the night, however, contrary to his custom, he
suddenly woke up, and there he saw in the dim light the sailmaker
standing at the head of his bed, with a thin hand stretched out toward
the cigar on the window-sill.

With a cry of rage he threw himself out of bed and barred the retreat
of the malefactor. For a while no words were spoken; the two enemies
stood facing each other, breathing hard but not moving, surveying each
other with piercing glances of anger, uncertain themselves whether it
was fear or excess of surprise that prevented them from having each
other by the hair.

"Drop that cigar!" cried Huerlin at last, hoarsely. The sailmaker did
not alter his position. "Drop it!" shouted the other, and as Heller
still did not move, he hauled off and would undoubtedly have given him
a swinging blow if the sailmaker had not ducked in time. In the
movement, however, he dropped the cigar, Huerlin tried to grasp it,
Heller trod on it with his heel, and with a light crackle it went to
pieces. Then the manufacturer gave him a good one in the ribs, and the
next thing a fair tussle was on. It was the first time they had come to
blows; but their cowardice outweighed even their anger, and no serious
damage resulted. Now one advanced a step, now the other; the two naked
old men circled about the room without much noise as if they were
performing some antique dance, each a hero and neither receiving a
blow. This went on until in a favorable moment the manufacturer got his
hand on his empty wash-basin. He swung it wildly over his head and
brought it down forcibly on the skull of his unarmed foe. It did him no
particular harm, but the crash of the tin basin gave out a warlike and
resonant sound that rang through the whole house. At once the door
opened, admitting the manager in his nightshirt, who stood between
scolding and laughing before the duelists.

"You're a pair of precious old rascals," he cried, "knocking each other
about without a stitch on you, like a couple of old he-goats! Into bed
with you--and if I hear another sound, you'll get something