"Have you written?" asked the emperor, striking the table with his clinched hand.
"I have written, sire," replied Gunther, in his fine, sonorous voice, whose familiar tones, in spite of himself, stirred the innermost depths of his misguided sovereign's heart.
"Now, answer me one question," continued Joseph, hoarsely. "have you ever received a thousand ducats from Eskeles Flies?"
Again the head of one of the secretaries was furtively raised, the hands shook like aspen-leaves, and the eyes gave one rapid glance toward the side of the table where Gunther sat.
The emperor, as before, was too blinded by passion to see any thing save the innocent object of his wrath. Gunther was surprised at the tone in which the question had been asked; and seemed at last to be aware that it was one full of significance. But his reply was prompt and calm.
"Yes, sire, I received that sum yesterday. Not for me, but for a lady whose name is well known to your majesty. It was a legacy left by her mother."
Joseph laughed scornfully. "Give me the note to the cardinal," cried he. Gunther presented it, and having signed it, the emperor gave it into the hands of the secretary opposite. "Fold and address the letter," said he. "But stop—write first the address of the person who presumes to avow herself a Deist in the face of my laws. Her name is Rachel Eskeles Flies."
A cry of anguish burst from Gunther's lips, and in his madness he would have snatched the horrid missive from the secretary's hands. But he recollected himself, and turning his blanched face toward the emperor, he exclaimed:
"Mercy, gracious sovereign, mercy for my Rachel! You have been wickedly deceived."
"Ay," cried Joseph, "I have been wickedly deceived; but he who has dared to betray me, shall be made to suffer for his crime. Rise from this table and leave this room. You are dismissed from my service as a false traitor!"