"The forger gathered his learning from the printed text of the father, for he has been clumsy enough to transcribe an error in the print made by the compositor. So there is an end of the parchment sheet and of a German scholar also!"
He took out his handkerchief to dry the perspiration on his forehead and threw himself into a chair.
"Hold!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Here the honor and reputation of a scholar are concerned. Let us once more examine calmly whether this may not be an accidental coincidence."
"Try, if you can," said the Professor; "I have done with it."
The Doctor long and anxiously collated the restored text of Struvelius with the printed words of the father.
At last he said sorrowfully: "What Struvelius has restored agrees with the sense and tenor of the words of the father so remarkably, that one cannot help considering the slight variation in the words of his restoration as a cunning concealment of his acquaintance with the quotation; but still it is not impossible that by good luck and acuteness a person might arrive at the true connection, as he found it."
"I do not doubt for a moment that Struvelius made the restoration honorably and in good faith," replied the Professor; "but still his position is as annoying as possible. Deceiver or deceived, the unfortunate treatise is a terrible humiliation, not only for him but for our University."
"The words of the parchment strip itself," continued the Doctor, "are undoubtedly transcribed and undoubtedly a forgery; and it is your duty to reveal the true state of the case."
"The duty of my husband!" exclaimed Ilse, rising.
"Of him who has discovered the forgery, and if Struvelius were his most intimate friend, Felix would have to do it."