Fischer threw down the pen.
"I will never write that, sir," said he; "it is false."
"Tempests and thunders!" cried the general, making a step towards him. "You give me the lie."
Fischer took a newspaper from his pocket.
"This will inform you better than I can, sir," he said; "it is the last issue of my paper published an hour before your entry here. This is what I wrote in it:
"'The history of the days which are to come is written at the point of the bayonet. It is not for the citizens of Frankfort to change anything. For the population of a small and weak state there is nothing else to do but to succour the combatants, whether friends or enemies: they must dress wounds, nurse the sick, exercise charity towards all. Right behaviour is as much the duty of every one as obedience towards the responsible authority.'"
Then, seeing the general shrugging his shoulders, Fischer in his turn took a step forward and holding out his paper:
"Read yourself, if you doubt me," said he.
The general tore it from his hands.
"You wrote that yesterday," he said white with rage, "because yesterday you felt us coming, because, yesterday, you were afraid of us." And tearing up the newspaper he crushed it into a ball and threw it in the Councillor's face, shouting; "You are a coward."