nsieur le Bailli, we should
all be equal in birth. Ask the noble Baron de Willading, who is seated
there at your side, why he is better than another. He will tell you that
he is come of an ancient and honorable line; but had he been taken from
his castle in infancy, and concealed under a feigned name, and kept from
men's knowledge as being that he is, who would think of him for the deeds
of his ancestors? As the Sire de Willading would, in such a case, have
lost in the world's esteem, so did Christine gain; but as opinion would
return to the baron, when the truth should be published, so does it desert
Balthazar's daughter, when she is known to be a headsman's child. I would
have married the maiden as she was, but, your pardon, Monsieur le Bailli,
if I say, I will not wive her as she is."

A murmur of approbation followed this plausible and ready apology, for,
when antipathies are active and bitter, men are easily satisfied with a
doubtful morality and a weak argument.

"This honest youth hath some reason in him," observed the puzzled bailiff,
shaking his head. "I would he had been less expert in disputation, or that
the secret had been better kept! It is apparent as the sun in the heavens,
friend Melchior, that hadst thou not been known as thy father's child,
thou wouldst not have succeeded to thy castle and lands--nay, by St Luke!
not even to the rights of the buergerschaft."

"In Genoa we are used to hear both parties," gravely rejoined the Signor
Grimaldi, "that we may first make sure that we touch the true merits of
the case. Were another to claim the Signor de Willading's honors and name,
thou wouldst scarce grant his suit, without questioning our friend here,
touching his own rights to the same."

"Better and better! This is justice, while that which fell from the
bridegroom was only argument. Harkee, Balthazar, and thou good woman, his
wife--and thou too, pretty Christine--what have ye all to answer to the
reasonable plea of Jacques Colis?"

Balthazar, who, by the nature of his office, and by his general masculine
duties, had been so much accustomed to meet with harsh instances of the
public hatred, soon recovered his usual calm exterior, even though he felt
a father's pang and a father's just resentment at witnessing this open
injury to one so gentle and deserving as his child. But the blow had been
far heavier on Marguerite, the faithful and long-continued sharer of his
fortunes. The wife of Balthazar was p