Seubolt, however, seemed to have no greater desire than to be heard by as many people as possible.  Raising his voice to a very loud tone, though he still maintained an extremely humble manner, he began to give the reasons which induced him, spite of his deep regret, to remove his wards from the Ortlieb house.  And now, sheltering himself behind frequent repetitions of “As people say” and “Heaven forbid that I should believe such things,” he began to relate what the most venomous slander had dared to assert concerning the beautiful Es.

For a time Herr Ernst had forced himself to listen quietly to this malicious abuse of those whom he held dearest, but at last it became too much for the quick-tempered man.  The tailor had ventured to allude to Jungfrau Els “who certainly had scarcely given full cause for such evil slander” in words which caused even the councillors standing near to contradict him loudly, and induced Herr Pfinzing, who had just come up, to beckon to the city soldiers.  At that instant the blood mounted to the insulted father’s brain, and the misfortune happened; for as the tailor, with an unexpected gesture of the arm he was flourishing, brushed Herr Ernst’s cap, the latter, fairly insane with rage, snatched the pike from one of the men who, obeying Herr Pfinzing’s signal, were just approaching the tailor, and with a wild cry struck down the base traducer.

Herr Pfinzing, with the presence of mind characteristic of him, instantly ordered the beadles to carry the wounded man into the Town Hall, and thus prevented the luckless deed of violence from creating any excitement.

The few persons in the courtyard had been detained, and perhaps everything might yet be well.  Herr Ernst had instantly delivered himself up to justice, and instead of being taken to prison like a common criminal, had been conveyed in a closed sedan-chair to the watch-tower.

The pike had pierced the tailor’s shoulder, but the wound did not seem to be mortal, and Herr Ernst’s rash deed might be made good by the payment of blood-money, though, it is true, on account of the tailor’s position and means, this might be a large sum.

“My horse,” said Herr Berthold in conclusion, “was waiting for me, and brought me here as swiftly as he must carry me back again.  But, you poor things! as for you, my Els, you have a firm nature, and if you insist upon refusing the invitation to our house, why, wait here to learn whether your father needs you.  You, my little goddaughter Eva, are provided for.  This sorrow, of course, will throw the veil over your fair head.”

The worthy man, as he spoke, laid his hand on her shoulder and looked at her with a glance which seemed to rely on her assent, but she interrupted him with the exclamation, “No, uncle!  Until you have convinced yourself that no one will dare assail Eva Ortlieb’s honour, do not ask her again if she desires the protection of the convent.”