worships have forgotten my claims," said Gotzkowsky quickly.
"However, that I can easily understand, as the accounts are somewhat
old. It is now four years since I have had the honor of having the
Council of Berlin as my debtor; since I thrice performed the perilous
journey to Koenigsberg and Warsaw in order to negotiate the war
contribution in the name of the town. At that time, too, I was
obliged, in the service of the Council, to take with me many valuable
presents. I may enumerate among them the diamond-set staff for General
von Fermore, and the snuff-box, with the portrait of the empress,
surrounded by brilliants, which I delivered to the General
Field-Marshal Count Butterlin, in the name of the magistracy and town
of Berlin. But, gentlemen, you will find the accounts of all these
things here."

The gentlemen of the Council did not answer him; they seized upon the
papers hastily, and turned them over, and looked into them with stern
and sullen eyes. Not a word was said, and nothing was heard but the
rustling of the papers, and the low muttering of one of the senators
adding the numbers, and verifying the calculation. Gotzkowsky rose,
and walked to the window. Raising his looks to heaven, his countenance
expressed all the pain and bitterness to which his soul almost
succumbed. Ah! he could have torn the papers out of the hand of this
miserable, calculating, reckoning senator, and with pride and contempt
have thrown them in his face. But he thought of his daughter, and
the honor of his name. He had to wait it out, and bend his head in
submission.

At last the burgomaster laid the papers aside, and turned scowlingly
toward Gotzkowsky. The latter stepped up to the table with a smile,
making a vow to himself that he would remain quiet and patient.

"Have you read them, gentlemen?" he asked.

"We have read them," answered the burgomaster roughly, "but the
Council cannot admit that it owes you any thing."

"No?" cried Gotzkowsky; and then, allowing himself to be overcome by a
feeling of bitterness--"I believe you. Those in authority seldom take
cognizance of what they owe, only what is owing to them."

"Oh, yes, indeed," said the first councillor with solemn dignity, "we
know very well that we owe you thanks for the great services you have
rendered the town."

Gotzkowsky broke out into a loud, ironical laugh. "Do you remember
that? I am glad that you have not forgotten it."

"It is true," continued the councill