e him feel that he had
mortified them by his self-sufficiency--for small natures never
forgive one who dares to be independent of others, and finds his
source of honor in himself. And this crime Gotzkowsky had been
guilty of. What he was, he had made himself. He had owed nothing
to protection, nothing to hypocrisy or flattery, eye-service, or
cringing. Only by the strength and power of his own genius had he
elevated himself above the world which he ruled.

And now that he was down, it was but natural that the world should
fall upon him, tear him to pieces with its venomous fangs, to enjoy
his torture, and joyfully to witness the lowering of pride and
independence. Gotzkowsky arrived at the town-hall and slowly ascended
the steps. How often had he gone this same road in answer to the
pressing cry for help which the magistrate would utter in his
distress! How often had he mounted those steps to give his advice, to
lend his energy, his money, and his credit to these gentlemen of the
Council!

This day the doors were not thrown open to him the beadle did not bow
down to the earth before him, but proudly and with erect head stepped
up to him and bade him wait in the antechamber until he had announced
him to the assembled Council. He had to wait long, but finally
the doors opened and he was admitted. There sat the aldermen and
councillors, and the burgomaster, just as they had when, in their
need and distress, they had appealed to Gotzkowsky for advice and
assistance--just as they had when, in solemn session, they
determined to present him with a silver laurel-wreath as an honorable
testimonial.

Only the chief burgomaster was absent. Herr von Kircheisen was at
home, enjoying the sight of the money he had won from Gotzkowsky. This
day they did not receive him as a counsellor or friend, but more like
a delinquent. No one rose to greet him--no one offered him a seat!
They knew that he came to ask for something. Why, then, should they be
polite to him, as he was only a petitioner like all other poor
people? In the mean time Gotzkowsky did not seem to be aware of the
alteration. Smiling, and with a firm, proud step he walked to a chair
and sat down.

After a pause the burgomaster asked him churlishly what his business
was. He drew out a parcel of papers, and laying them on the table,
said, "I have brought my accounts."

A panic seized the worshipful gentlemen of the Council, and they sat
petrified in their seats.

"Your