"You have a moment to decide whether you will read the letter, or whether I shall show it to Count Zarrentin, before taking farther steps."
Brandow paused in his walk. "So you really mean to have a scandal! I thought so. Well, perhaps it will be worth the trouble, to see how you intend to begin."
He threw himself into his chair again, seized the letter, and began to read it with the air of a man who wished to get rid of a troublesome petitioner. A scornful smile played around his lips. "I was mistaken," he muttered as if talking to himself, "it is simply ridiculous, utterly ridiculous."
But his lips were pale; the smile changed to a grin, and his hands trembled more and more. He had read very rapidly at first; but the farther he proceeded the longer he lingered over every separate sentence, and even word. Many he seemed to weigh and test two or three times, and he made a pretence of reading long after he had evidently reached the end. At last, amid the terrible tumult of his soul, a resolution was formed.
"You were going to give this--letter to our chairman," he said, carefully folding the sheets; "I have no objection, but on one condition."
He withdrew the hand with which he had held out the letter to Gotthold.
"On condition that I may first take a copy of this precious document, to serve as a basis for the charge of scandal I shall bring against the noble writer and delicate-minded receiver of this bungling performance. To a man so extremely just as yourself, a man who does not hesitate, on the most absurd proofs, to charge his friend with the most horrible crimes, this will doubtless be perfectly agreeable."
"Entirely so," replied Gotthold; "you can also keep the original. The letter was merely to make you acquainted with certain things, to which I did not wish to refer verbally, and has performed its work."
"And this interesting conversation is over," said Brandow, rising; "I mean for to-day; to-morrow we shall have more to say to each other; only the tables will be turned. The things of which I shall accuse you are no shameful inventions like the story about the bills, or silly fancies like the horrible murder of Hinrich Scheel, which you will probably cry, with all the terrible details, at the next fair, but facts, positive facts--a pretty commentary on the song of the worthy man, who knows how to make no better use of the hospitality offered him, than--you have done. So farewell until to-morrow!"
Brandow walked towards the door with a wave of the hand intended to be contemptuous; Gotthold stepped before him.