Well. Yes, it is so. Doctor Kannenfeld, namely, has been visited by heaven with a severe fit of illness, and brought near the gates of death. Moved by the exhortations of his spiritual director, he sent for me to attend, and, amidst tears and groans, confessed that he has deprived the children of their lawful property--
P. Coun. What is that?
Reiss. (frightened.) How?
Well. Being, by a certain quidam, whom the finger of heaven, whilst we are here speaking about the matter, has severely touched, persuaded, and bribed, partly to conceal, and even partly to deny the insanity of the testatrix, at the time when the will was made, which robs the true heirs of their due.
P. Coun. (in a low voice.) My God! (Pauses.)
Well. It is so.
Reiss. (embarrassed) Is Doctor Kannenfeld ill? Ay, ay?
Well. He is very ill. He has stated and deposed all the particulars concerning the certain quidam.
Reiss. Well,--and,--
Well. Ay, if I were in your stead, I would say to myself, "True, I have won the cause, but I will not keep what is not mine;" your conscience then would applaud you, and your fellow-citizens would esteem you; you would find consolation under every affliction, and when the cold hand of death had arrested almost every faculty, and benumbed almost every sense, your soul would look up with trembling confidence to heaven. The poor orphans would gather round your dying bed, and weep for their second father. Thus speaks old Wallenberg, gentlemen, whose life has been spent in settling the disputes of this world according to the mild precepts of christianity, a religion that at once consults our happiness here and hereafter.