Debit and Credit Part 70

"What is there surprising in it?" continued the baron. "Both are tradespeople. Fink knows enough of the charms of business to lose no opportunity of making a good bargain. I will tell you why he is come here. Our excellent Wohlfart has written to him stating, 'Here is an estate, and this estate has an owner who is at present unable to overlook its management himself. There is something to be made here. You have money, therefore come; I am your friend; some of the profits will naturally fall to my share.'"

The baroness gazed steadfastly at her husband, but Lenore sprang up and cried, with all the energy of a deeply-wounded heart, "Father, I will not hear you speak thus of a man who has never shown us any thing but the most unselfish devotion. His friends.h.i.+p for us is such as to enable him to bear with boundless patience the privations of this lonely place, and the disagreeables of his present position."

"His friends.h.i.+p?" said the baron; "I never laid claim to so great a distinction."

"We have done so, though," cried Lenore, impetuously. "At a time when my mother found no one else to stand by us, Wohlfart faithfully clung to us still. From the day that my brother brought him to us till this very hour, he has acted for you and cared for us."

"Very well," admitted the baron; "I find no fault with his activity. I willingly allow that he keeps the accounts in good order, and is very industrious in return for a small salary. If you understood men's motives better, you would hear me more patiently. After all, there is no harm in what he has done. I want capital, and am, as you know, a good deal embarra.s.sed besides. What should prevent proposals being made to me which would advantage others and do me no injury?"

"For G.o.d's sake, father, what proposals do you mean? It is false that Wohlfart has any other interest at heart but yours."

The baroness beckoned to her daughter to be silent. "If Fink wishes to purchase the estate," said she, "I shall hail his resolve as a blessing--the greatest blessing, beloved Oscar, that could happen to you now."

"We are not talking of buying," replied the baron. "I shall think twice before I give away the estate in such a hurry under the present circ.u.mstances. Fink's proposal is of a different kind; he wishes to become my tenant."

Lenore sank down speechless in her chair.

"He wishes to rent from me five hundred acres of level ground, in order to convert them into profitable meadows. I do not deny that he has spoken openly and fairly on the subject. He has proved to me in figures how great his gains would be, and offered to pay the first year's rent at once--nay, more, he has offered to give up his tenancy in five years, and make over the meadows to me, provided I repay him the expenses incurred."

"Gracious Heaven!" cried Lenore; "you have surely refused this generous proposal."

"I have required time for deliberation," replied the baron, complacently. "The offer is, as I have already said, not exactly disadvantageous to myself; at the same time, it might be imprudent to concede such advantages to a stranger, when, in a year or so, I might be able to carry out this improvement on my own account."

"You will never be able to do so, my poor, my beloved husband," cried the baroness, weeping, and throwing her arms about the baron's neck, while he sank down annihilated, and laid his head on her breast like a little child.

"I must know whether Wohlfart knows of this proposal, and what he says to it," cried Lenore, decidedly; "and, if you allow me, father, I will at once send for him." As the baron did not reply, she rang the bell for the servant, and left the room to meet him at the door.

Fink sat, meanwhile, in Anton's room, amusing himself with rallying his friend. "Since you have given up smoking, your good angel has deserted you, after having so torn his hair at your stiff-neckedness that there he is now sitting bewigged among the angel choir. As for you, your punishment is to be the having your soul sewed up in a turnip-leaf, and daily smoked by the smallest imps in the pit."

"Have you been a member of some pious fraternity in America, that you are so well acquainted with the proceedings of the spiritual world?"

inquired Anton, looking up from his account-book.

"Silence!" said Fink; "formerly there were, at least, occasional hours when you could trifle too, but now you are always carrying on your everlasting book-keeping, and, by Tantalus, all for nothing--for nothing at all!"

The servant entered, and summoned Anton to the baron.

As the latter left the room, Fink called out, "Apropos; I have offered to rent the five hundred acres from the baron at two dollars and half the acre--the land to be made over in five years' time on repayment of the capital expended, either in money or by a mortgage. Off with you, my boy!"

When Anton entered the baron's apartment, he found the baroness at her husband's side, his hand in hers, while Lenore walked restlessly up and down the room. "Have you heard of the offer that Herr von Fink has made to my father?" asked she.

"He has this moment told me of it," replied Anton. The baron made a face.

"And is it your opinion that my father ought to accept the offer?"

Anton was silent. "It is an advantageous one for the estate," said he, at length, with considerable effort. "The outlay of capital is essential to its improvement."

"I don't want to be told that," replied Lenore, impatiently, "but to know whether you, as our friend, advise us to accept this offer?"

"I do not," said Anton.

"I knew that you would say so," cried Lenore, stepping behind her father's chair.

"You do not; and wherefore, if you please?" inquired the baron.

"The present time, which makes all things uncertain, seems to me little fitted for so bold a speculation; besides which, I believe Fink to be influenced by motives which do him honor, but which would render it painful to the baron to accept his offer."

"You will allow me to be the judge of what I ought or ought not to accept," said the baron. "As a mere question of business, this measure would be advantageous to both parties."

"That I must allow," said Anton.

"And as to the views that people may take of political prospects, that is merely a personal matter. He who does not allow his undertakings to be interfered with is more praise-worthy than he who, through a vague fear, postpones advantageous measures."

"That, too, I allow."

"Would this undertaking lead to Herr von Fink permanently taking up his abode in our neighborhood?" asked the baroness.

"I do not think so; he would make over the task to a farmer, and his temperament is sure to send him wandering off again. As to his motives, I can but surmise. I believe them to be mainly the respect and regard he feels for your family, and possibly the wish to have some right to remain with you in these unquiet times. The very danger that would make this country undesirable to others has a charm for him."

"And would you not be glad to retain your friend with you?" inquired the baroness further.

"Till to-day I had no hope of it," answered Anton. "Formerly, my task used to be that of holding him back from precipitate resolves, and from staking much upon a sudden fancy."

"You consider, then," said the baron, "that your friend has been precipitate in his proposal to me?"

"His proposal is a bold one, so far as he himself is concerned,"

returned Anton, significantly; "and there is something in it, baron, which does not satisfy me on your account, though I should find a difficulty in defining it."

"Thank you," said the baron; "we will discuss the subject no further; there is no hurry about it." Anton bowed and left the room.

Lenore stood silently at the window, repeating to herself his last words, "I should find a difficulty in defining it," while a crowd of painful thoughts and forebodings rushed through her mind. She was angry with her father's weakness, and indignant with Fink for presuming to offer them a.s.sistance. Whether his offer were accepted or not, their relations to their guest were changed by it. They were indebted to him.

He was no longer a stranger. He had intruded into their private griefs.

She thought of the curl of his lip, of the contraction of his eyebrows; she fancied she heard him laughing at her father and at her. He had entered their house in his offhand way, and now carelessly seized the reins, and meant to direct their fortunes as he liked. Perhaps her parents might owe their deliverance to one of his arbitrary caprices.

This morning she could feel at her ease with him, brilliant man of the world as he was; they were on equal terms, but how should they meet henceforth? Her pride rebelled against one whose influence she so sensibly felt. She determined to treat him coldly; she made castles in the air as to how he would speak, and how she would reply, and her fancy kept flying round the image of the stranger as the scared mother-bird does around the enemy of her nest.

"And what will you do, Oscar?" inquired the baroness.

"My father can not accept," cried Lenore, energetically.

"What is your opinion?" said the baron, turning to his wife.

"Choose what will soonest set you free from this estate--from the care, the gloom, the insecurity which are secretly preying on you. Let us go to some distant land, where men's pa.s.sions are less hideously developed.

Let us go far away; we shall be more peaceful in the narrowest circ.u.mstances than we are here."

"Thus, then, you advise the acceptance of his offer," said the baron.

"He who rents a part will soon undertake the whole."

"And pay us a pension!" cried Lenore.

"You are a foolish girl," said her father. "You both excite yourselves, which is unnecessary. The offer is too important to be refused or accepted offhand. I will weigh the matter more narrowly. Your Wohlfart will have plenty of time to examine the conditions," added he, more good-humoredly.