"There are seven of you present, and none needing grain!" exclaimed Von
Josephi.
"Yes. Seven noblemen, all abounding in grain."
"Seven extortioners!" cried Josephi, rising from his seat, and looking as if he would have stricken them to the earth with the lightning of his flashing eyes.
"What means this insolence?" asked the host.
"It means that I have found here seven men of noble birth, who have disgraced their caste by fattening upon the misery of their fellows. But by the eternal God! the extortioner shall be branded throughout the world. And be he gentle or base-born, he shall feel the weight of my just indignation."
While the emperor spoke, the company had been awaking from the stupor caused by the wine they had been drinking. Gradually their heads were raised to listen, and their eyes shot fire, until, at last, they sprang from their seats, crying out:
"Who dares speak thus to us? By what right do you come to insult us?"
"By what right?" thundered the emperor. "The emperor has given me the right—the little chicken-hearted emperor, whose commissioners you have bribed, and whose subjects you have oppressed, until nothing remains for him but to come among you and drag your infamy to daylight with his own hands."
"The emperor! it is the emperor!" groaned the terror-stricken extortioners, while Joseph looked contemptuously upon their pale and conscience-stricken faces.
Suddenly the host burst into a maudlin laugh.