The final note of resignation in his monologue revived his inexhaustible natural good spirits, and with a contented smile he sat down to indite the following letter to Smith, who was, he knew, in court that day:
"Dear Smith,—For various reasons I find myself unable to recollect anything of last night's happenings. And being in consequence much troubled in mind lest something scandalous may have taken place, and my position of unimpeachable respectability in the town undermined, you are hereby invited to dine with me to-day, in order that we can discuss the matter and, if necessary, find some means of meeting the situation.—Yours,
"Old Nick."
Old Martha, Nickelsen's housekeeper, shuffled along to the court-house, with strict injunctions to bring back an answer, and returned half an hour later with a scrap of paper from Smith, on which were scribbled the following lines in pencil:
"My dear old Friend,—Ten minutes ago I said to a man convicted of illicit dealing in spirits, 'You are in culpa, my good man, and you may as well confess it first as last.' But at the same moment it struck me fairly to the heart that I might say the very same thing to myself.
"Yes, I am in culpa—— To think that dance should have proved the occasion of my downfall! So beautiful she was—and so gracious towards me, that my heart beat in quiet delight—until that old shark—that bottle-nosed shark, her father.... Ugh!
"He got me on to talking politics, and I, fool that I was, I took the bait, declared myself a Republican, Jacobin, Anarchist, showed myself a thousand times worse than I am, simply because the sight of his bottle-nosed caricature of a face turned me sour. Fool, fool that I was! I forgot he was her father, and now my hopes are simply done for. The old man was furious, said he couldn't forget me, and so on. So altogether I am utterly miserable, not to say desperate. For I know if I'm to lose Tulla Prois, then——
"I shall come round to dinner. Thanks.—Yours,
"Smith."
Old Nick sat quietly for a moment, then burst out laughing, and went out into the garden to hoist the flag, by way of celebrating—well, had anyone asked him, he would probably have answered "the morning after the night before."