As he spoke, he clung to the smith's arm, and when the latter tried to
release himself from his grasp, said earnestly:

"We will not follow their example!"

Again the hammer whizzed high in the air, and again the Jew clung to the
smith's arm, this time exclaiming imperiously:

"Spare him, if you are my friend!"

What was his strength in comparison with Adam's? Yet as the hammer rose
for the third time, he again strove to prevent the terrible deed, seizing
the infuriated man's wrist, and gasping, as in the struggle he fell on
his knees beside the count: "Think of Ulrich! This man's son was the
only one, the only one in the whole monastery, who stood by Ulrich, your
child--in the monastery--he was--his friend--among so many. Spare him--
Ulrich! For Ulrich's sake, spare him!"

During this struggle the smith had held the count down with his left
hand, and defended himself against Lopez with the right.

One jerk, and the hand upraised for murder was free again--but he did not
use it. His friend's last words had paralyzed him.

"Take it," he said in a hollow tone, giving the hammer to the doctor.

The latter seized it, and rising joyously, laid his hand on the shoulder
of the smith, who was still kneeling on the count's breast, and said
beseechingly: "Let that suffice. The man is only...."