"Yes, he is sitting there."
"Come with me, Herr Schultz."
Bräsig was angry, as I have said, he was exceedingly angry; the fine fraternity fête, from which he had hoped so much for mankind, was hopelessly ruined; he felt like the patriarch Abraham, when he offered up his darling child, he would have nothing more to do with it, he would go home; then providence sent him this scapegoat, upon whom he could express his anger, and so much the better, since he was the friend and tool of Pomuchelskopp.
"Come along, Herr Schultz," said he, crossing the hall with great strides to the dressing room, where he had left his hat and buckthorn walking-stick. The hat he left there, but the stick he took with him to No. 3.
There were many guests sitting here, over their bottles, and laughing at the jokes of the Herr Notary. All at once a great silence fell upon the merry company, as they saw a face among them which frightened them out of their laughter. That was Bräsig's, which looked, in a very singular way, first at his buckthorn stick, and then at the notary, so that the company, with a suspicion of what might possibly happen, hastened to withdraw from the table.
"What rascal wanted to make me King of France?" cried Bräsig, in such a voice that the plastering fell from the ceiling, and his stick seemed like a live thing in his hand: "I will not be made King of France!"--whack! came the buckthorn, between the notary's shoulder-blades. "Oh Lord!"--"I will not be made King of France!" and a second time the buckthorn did its work, and Uncle Bräsig and his stick alternated in the assurance that they had no ambition for the French crown. Candlesticks, lamps and bottles entered actively into the battle-royal, and David got under the table, that is to say, he crept there for refuge. The notary shrieked for help, but no one stood by him; only when the affair was over, David plucked up courage, under the table, to inquire: "Begging your pardon, Herr Inspector, is this what you call fraternity?"
"Yes!" cried Bräsig, "you miserable scamp! Between a man and a dog, blows are the best fraternity."
"Out! out!" said Herr Schultz and he grappled David, under the table, and dragged him to light.
"Gentlemen," cried Slusuhr, "you are witnesses how I have been treated, I shall enter a complaint."
"I have seen nothing," said one.