(_Speaking in a hoa.r.s.e voice, with an occasional cough_.) May I take my m.u.f.fler off? My lungs have gone wrong--makes it very hard for me to talk down my adversary in one of those crowded smoky halls.--But what's to be done about it?

Richard.

May I ask what you want of me?

Meixner.

Really, Baron, from the way you look at me I might almost ask what you want of _me_. But I suppose it's my turn first.--I haven't come out of malice. You can safely offer me a chair.

Richard.

If you haven't come out of malice you probably won't stay long enough to need one.

Meixner.

Ah--thanks. Well, I'll take the hint and be brief. It was down at Lengenfeld, you know. Herr Holtzmann and I sat up a whole night arguing over the elections. Why not--two honourable antagonists, eh? Herr Holtzmann, as a good theologian, was all for the sanct.i.ty of the social order. I laughed at him--he's at the age when the disciple looks up to his master, and he brought you up as an example. I laughed at him again.--"If Baron Volkerlingk is not what I believe him to be," said he, "nothing is what I believe it to be, and I'll go over to your side." "Shake hands on that," said I; and we did. The next day, in my speech, I made that allusion--you know what I mean--and as no one took it up, and I began to be afraid it might hang fire, I sent about a few copies of the paper. That helped. I got my nomination the next day.

Richard.

Not in my district.

Meixner.

No matter. Well I found I'd made a stupid blunder. I'd meant to convert Holtzmann but I hadn't meant to ruin _you_. Do you see? Then you made your speech to-day--and after that-- Well, I've been tramping the streets ever since, saying to myself: The man who could make that speech after what he's been through--well, he's suffered enough.--Baron Volkerlingk, here are two letters written to you by-- (_he looks about him cautiously_) by a lady I needn't name. Don't ask me how I got them.

I didn't steal them; and here they are, if you'll give me your word that you'll put a stop to that libel-suit.

Richard.

I think the suit has already been stopped.

Meixner.

H'm--well, your thinking so is hardly sufficient.

Richard.

It will have to be stopped, even if you keep those letters.

Meixner (_startled_).

Even if--? H'm--do things look as badly as that for you?

Richard.

You will kindly leave me out of the question.

Meixner.

Ah--well--here are your letters. (_Lays them on the table_.)

Richard.

If you didn't wish to do me a public injury, why not have shown them privately to my secretary?

Meixner.

They might have been forgeries.

Richard.

They may be so still.

Meixner.

When I've taken the trouble to return them to you? Holtzmann doesn't think so. He's packing up already. Perhaps you'd like to see him before he leaves?

Richard.

No.

Meixner.

Baron Volkerlingk, if I have got you into trouble don't set it down to ill-feeling. Principle is principle, if we have to hang for it. Every man who has convictions must be prepared to go to the stake for them.

Good-day to you, Baron Volkerlingk. (_He goes out_.)

Richard.

(_Clutches the letters and strikes his clenched hand against his brow_.) Oh, to live again to live, to live!

_Enter_ Norbert.

Norbert.

Father----

Richard.

Well?

Norbert.

Aunt Beata was out.

Richard.

Out? At this hour? Why, she never goes out except for her morning drive. Where can she have gone?

Norbert.