"You have, nevertheless," said Ilse, "shown the Magister much greater leniency, and I have seen him with you since, more than once."
"The Magister was less to blame in the matter," her husband replied. "When the question was clearly before him, he employed his acuteness to some purpose."
"He took money for it," said Ilse.
"He is a poor devil, accustomed, as a broker, to take his profits on any exchange of antiquities, and no one would expect in such a transaction that he should act like a gentleman. So far as his oppressed spirit belongs to science, it is not without a sort of manly pride; and I have the warmest sympathy for a nature of that kind. His life on the whole is a continual martyrdom to the interests of others; and when I employ such a man, I know exactly how far to trust him."
"Do not deceive yourself in that!" cried Raschke.
"I shall take the risk and the responsibility," replied the Professor. "But have done with the Magister--it is not he who is in question. When I compare his offense with that of Struvelius, there is no doubt in my mind as to who has shown the greater deficiency in sense of honor.
"This again is so unjust," cried Raschke, "that I cannot listen to such expressions in the absence of my colleague. It is with deep regret that I miss in you the candor and dispassionate impartiality which I consider to be unreservedly demanded in judging a fellow-professor."
"You yourself told me," replied Felix, more quietly, "that he promised silence to the trader, because the latter had held out the prospect of obtaining other secret parchments. How can you, after such an exhibition of selfishness, find a word to say in his defense?"
"It is true he did so," replied Raschke, "and therein was his weakness?"
"Therein was his dishonesty," said the Professor, "and that I shall never condone. Whoever thinks otherwise, may shake his hand in approbation of his conduct."