For wherein is it that men—­so often men of the shrewdest intelligence and keenest intellect—­deceive themselves by their own egregious vanity.—­by that vanity which makes them prefer to depend on the refinements and subtle processes of their own intelligence, rather than on the first impressions of the mind which Heaven has bestowed upon them?  They are not satisfied with perceiving that a thing is good, but they must learn why it is so.  They are not satisfied with knowing that the world is beautiful, that the harmony of this globe and its planets is admirable, but they must know the origin of this beauty, and the cause of the harmony which strikes them with wonder.  It is not enough for them to be told they are “fearfully and wonderfully made,” but they must attend schools to learn why they live, move, and have their being.  Such is man, blinded by his self-conceit; blasted not by the excess, but by the partial light which bursts upon him:  whereas woman moves clear in her apprehension, because she believes that “whatever is, is right;” and great in her intelligence, because she knows she is ignorant.

The count saw that all further appeals to Dumiger’s interest would now be thrown away, but he was not on that account to be baffled.

“Very well, sir,” he said, in an angry voice; “I make you the greatest offer that was ever made to any workman in this city, and you reject it with contempt.  The day will come when you shall repent it.  I would have saved you for that woman’s sake, from the distress and ruin which are impending over you, but you will not be free.  Look to it, sir, for there is danger even now.  Your success is not so certain.  I have it in my power to crush you, and your pride shall be broken.”

So saying he took up the rouleau of gold he had given to Marguerite and departed.  Dumiger and Marguerite stood side by side, alarmed, but still unbending; and yet the man who spoke to them was of great power.  To recite his titles once more:—­Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights, President of the City Council; magnificent in his promise, fierce in his resentments, unscrupulous in his means.  For a moment Dumiger looked at Marguerite as though he were disposed to yield to the tyranny of that great man, but a glance from her reassured him; and it was with a low but formal reverence that he opened the door to the illustrious visitor, while Marguerite stood proud, haughty, and reserved.

“Did we do wisely?” said Dumiger, when the door closed upon them.

“Wisely!” exclaimed Marguerite; “oh, Dumiger, can you doubt it?  I feel myself worthier of you now that I was able to influence you in your moment of uncertainty.  I say moment, for I will not believe that, upon reflection, you could have hesitated in your decision.  Better risk all and lose all than sacrifice the glorious object which you have in view.  Who would not prefer the greatness which must be yours, if you succeed? and the count has at least taught us one thing, that success is almost certain,—­who would not prefer this to that wealth of which he is so proud, and that eminence which it makes him giddy to stand on?  No, Dumiger, you were in the right; and come what may, you will feel proud of your decision and self-denial.”