"Used them!" cried the old man, stamping with his feet; "and how used them? You have destroyed them—you have destroyed the house."
"Nay, do not exaggerate, Herr Emmerich. I cannot ask you to walk up-stairs, or you might see that these rooms we inhabit are in a perfect state of preservation. As to this ladder, which was but an asses' bridge for tedious visitors and bad men, I removed it with great difficulty, as being superfluous."
"But these steps," cried Emmerich, "with their noble banister, these two-and-twenty broad, strong oaken steps, were an integral part of my house. Old as I am, I never heard of a lodger who dealt as he pleased with the stairs of a house."
"Be patient," said Henry, "and you shall hear the real connexion of events. The post failed in bringing our necessary remittances; the winter was unusually severe; all ordinary means of procuring fuel were wanting; I had recourse to this sort of forced loan. At the same time I did not think, respected sir, that you would return before the warm summer weather."
"Nonsense!" said the landlord. "Summer weather! Do you think that these my stairs will sprout out again, like asparagus, when the summer comes?"
"Really," said Henry, "I am not sufficiently acquainted with the growth and habits of the stair-plant to determine."
"Ulric!" cried the wrathful landlord, "run for the police. You shall find this no jesting matter."
The police arrived. The inspector was scandalized at the outrage which had been committed, and summoned the delinquent to surrender.
"Never!" said Henry. "An Englishman says well that his house is his castle; and mine is a castle with the drawbridge up."
"There is an easy remedy for that," said the officer, who thereupon called for a ladder, and gave command to his men to mount, to bind the criminal with cords, and bring him down to his condign punishment.