“No, no, father, I remain here.  You shall not insult yourself and me so much as to believe what is dishonorable and unworthy of me, and to require a proof of my innocence.”

This bold opposition of Elise only excited Gotzkowsky’s anger the more, and was to him a fresh proof of her guilt.  His rage overpowered him; with raised arm and flashing eye he strode up to Elise, and cried out:  “Away from the door, or by Heaven I will forget that I am your father!”

“Oh,” cried she breathlessly, “you have often forgotten that, but think now; remember that I am the daughter of the wife whom you loved!  Trust me, father.  By the memory of my mother, I swear to you that my honor is pure from any spot; and, however much appearances may be against me, I am nevertheless innocent.  I have never done any thing of which my father would have to be ashamed.  Believe me, father; give me your hand and say to me—­’I believe your innocence; I trust you even without proof!’”

She sank down on her knees, raising her arms imploringly to him, while burning tears streamed down her cheeks.  Gotzkowsky gazed at her long and silently, and his child’s tears touched the father’s heart.

“Perhaps I do her injustice,” said he to himself, looking thoughtfully into her weeping face.  “She may be really innocent.  Let us try,” said he, after a pause, pressing his hands to his burning temples.  As he let them drop, his countenance was again calm and clear, and there was no longer visible any trace of his former anger.  “I will believe you,” said he.  “Here, Elise, is my hand.”

Elise uttered a cry of joy, sprang up from her knees, rushed toward her father, and pressed her burning lips on his extended hand.  “My father, I thank you.  I will ever be grateful to you,” cried she, fondly.

Gotzkowsky held her hand firmly in his own, and while speaking to her approached, apparently by accident, the door so bravely defended by Elise.  “You are right, my child; I was a fool to doubt you, but I am jealous of my honor, the most precious property of an honest man.  Much can be bought with gold, but not honor.  True honor is bright and clear as a mirror, and the slightest breath dims it.  Oh, how would this envious, grudging, malignant world rejoice if it could only find a spot on my honor!  But woe to him who dims it, even if it were my own child!”

Elise turned pale and cast down her eyes.  Gotzkowsky perceived it.  He still held her hand in his, and approached the door with her, but he compelled his voice to be gentle and mild.

“I repeat,” said he, “I wronged you, but it was a terrible suspicion which tortured me, and I will confess it to you, my child.  The Russian flag of truce which came into town to negotiate with the authorities was accompanied by ten soldiers and two officers.  While the commissioner was transacting business in the Council-chamber above, they remained below in the lower story of the building.