Debit and Credit Part 92

"That Karl is paid," suggested old Sturm, looking round; "and you, Mr.

Wohlfart, will undertake to give into my boy's hands what remains in the chest, if I do not myself see my little fellow."

"If you don't give up this idea," cried Anton, "I shall become your foe, and shall treat you with the greatest severity. Early to-morrow morning you may expect me to bring you Mr. Schroter's doctor."

"He is a worthy man, no doubt," said Sturm; "his horses must be remarkably well fed, they are so fat and strong, but he can do nothing for me."

The following morning the doctor visited the invalid.

"I don't consider his case a serious one as yet," said he; "his feet are swollen, indeed, but that might soon be cured. However, his sedentary inactive life is so bad for a frame like his, and his diet is so unwholesome, that I am sorry to say the sudden development of some serious complaint is only too likely."

Anton immediately wrote off this opinion to Karl, and added, "Under these circ.u.mstances, your father's own impression that he shall not survive his fiftieth birth-day makes me very uneasy. It would be well that you should be with him at that time."

Several days had now elapsed since Anton had written this letter, and, meanwhile, he had paid a daily visit to Sturm, who did not appear to change for the worse, but yet remained firm in his resolve of not outliving his birth-day. One morning a servant came to Anton's room, and announced that Sturm the porter urgently wished to see him.

"Is he worse?" inquired Anton, in dismay; "I will go to him immediately."

"He is at the door in a cart," said the servant.

Anton hurried out. A carrier's cart was standing there, with great barrel-hoops bent over the wicker-work, and covered by a white sheet, from which--a corner of it being turned back--the head of Father Sturm, ensconced in a colossal fur cap, appeared. He wore an anxious face, and, as soon as he saw Anton, held out a sheet of paper. "Read this, Mr.

Wohlfart; I have had such a letter from my poor Karl! I must go to him at once. To the estate beyond Rosmin," he added to the driver, a burly carrier who stood by the vehicle.

Anton looked at the letter. It was written in the forester's clumsy characters, and the contents amazed him. "My dear father, I can not come to you, for a scythe-man has cut off the remainder of my hand, on which account I beg you, as soon as you get this, to set out to your poor son.

You must take a large conveyance and drive to Rosmin. There you must stop at the Red Deer. A carriage and a servant from the estate will be waiting for you. The servant does not understand a word of German, but he is a good fellow, and will know you when he sees you. You must buy yourself a fur for the journey, and fur boots which must come above your knees, and be lined with leather. If you can't find any large enough for your great legs, G.o.dfather Kurschner must, during the night, sew a skin over your feet. Greet Mr. Wohlfart from me. Your faithful Karl."

Anton held the letter in his hand, not exactly knowing what to make of it.

"What do you say to this new misfortune?" asked the giant, mournfully.

"At all events, you must go to your son at once," was Anton's reply.

"Of course I must," said the porter; "this blow comes heavily upon me just now; the day after to-morrow I shall be fifty."

The meaning of the letter now flashed upon Anton. "Are you accoutred according to Karl's directions?"

"I am," said the giant, throwing back the linen covering; "all is right, the fur and the boots too."

Anton looked in, and had some trouble to preserve his gravity. Sturm looked like a pre-Adamic bear of colossal dimensions. A great sword leaned against the seat. "Against those scythe-men!" said he, angrily shaking it. "I have still one other request to make you. Wilhelm has got the key of my house; will you take charge of this box? it holds what was formerly under my bed. Keep it for Karl."

"I will give it into Mr. Schroter's care," replied Anton; "he is just gone to the railway station, and may be back any moment."

"Greet him from me," said the giant; "greet him and Miss Sabine, and tell them both how heartily I thank them for all the friendliness they have shown to Karl and me." He looked in with emotion at the ground floor. "Many a happy year I have worked away there, and if the rings on the hundred weights are well polished, these hands have done their part to make them so. I have shared the fate of this house for thirty years, good and bad, and I can tell you, Mr Wohlfart, we were always wide awake. I shall roll your barrels no more," continued he, turning to the servants, "and some one else will help you to unload the wagons. Think often of old Sturm when you fasten up a sugar-cask. Nothing here below can last forever, not even the strongest; but this firm, Mr. Wohlfart, will stand and flourish so long as it has a chief like Mr. Schroter, and men like you, and good hands below there at the great scales. This is my heart's wish." He folded his hands, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"And now farewell, Mr. Wohlfart; give me your hand; and farewell Peter, Franz, Gottfried--all of you, think kindly of me. To Rosmin, driver."

The cart rolled away over the pavement, the sheet opening once more, and Sturm's great head emerging for a last look and wave of the hand.

Anton was exceedingly anxious about him for a few days, when a letter came in Karl's own hand.

"Dear Mr. Wohlfart," wrote Karl, "you will of course have seen why I sent that last note to my Goliath. I had to get him out of that room, and to drive that notion about his birth-day out of his head; so, in my anxiety, I hazarded a white lie. This is how it all came about:

"The day before his birth-day, the servant was waiting for him at the Red Deer in Rosmin. I had ridden over there myself to see how my father got on, and how he looked; but I kept myself out of sight. About midday the cart came slowly rumbling up. The driver helped my father out--for he had great difficulty in moving--which at first gave me a fright about his legs; but it was really mainly owing to the fur boots and the jolting. On the street the old boy took out a letter and read it. Then he went up to Jasch, who had run to the cart, and who had to pretend that he did not understand a word of German, and began to make all manner of alarming gesticulations. He held his hand two feet above the pavement, and when the servant shook his head, the governor stooped down to the ground. This was meant to signify, 'My manikin!' but as Jasch failed to understand it, my father caught hold of one hand with the other, and shook it so violently under Jasch's nose, that the servant, who, without this, was frightened at the great creature, was near taking to his heels. At length my father and his effects were packed into a spring-cart, he having several times walked round, and shaken it rather mistrustfully. Then he drove off. I had told the servant to drive straight to the forester's, with whom I had planned every thing. As for me, I had gone there by a by-path; and as soon as the wagon arrived in the evening, I slipped into the forester's bed, and had my hand tied down under the clothes for fear I should stretch it out in my delight.

When the old gentleman reached my bedside, he was so moved that he wept, and it went to my heart to be obliged to cheat him. I told him that I was better already, and that the doctor would allow me to get up on the morrow. This quieted him; and he said, with a most solemn mien, that he was glad of that, for that the morrow was a great day for him, and that he must then take to his bed. And so he went on with his nonsense. But not long. He soon got cheerful. The forester joined us, and we made a very good supper on what the young lady had sent us from the castle. I gave the old boy beer, which he p.r.o.nounced execrable; whereupon the forester made some punch, and we all three drank heartily--I with my amputated hand, my father with his melancholy forebodings, and the forester. What with the long journey, the warm room, and the punch, my father soon got sleepy (I had had a strong bedstead placed in the forester's room); he kissed my head as he wished me good-night, tapped the quilt, and said, 'To-morrow, then, my manikin!' He was asleep in a moment; and how he slept, to be sure! I got out of the forester's bed, and watched every breath he drew. It was a weary night. The next morning he woke late. As soon as he began to stir, the forester came in, clapping his hands at the door, and exclaiming over and over again, 'Why, Mr. Sturm, what have you done?' 'What have I done?' asked my Goliath, still half asleep, and looking round in amazement. The birds were screaming very loud, and every thing looked so strange to him he hardly knew if he was still on earth or not. 'Where am I?' cried he; 'this place is not in the Bible.' However, the forester went on exclaiming, 'No; such a thing never was heard of before,' till the old man was quite alarmed, and anxiously asked what it was. 'What you have done, Mr. Sturm!' cried the forester; 'why, you have slept a night, and then a day, and then another night!' 'How so?' said my old boy; 'to-day is Wednesday, the 13th.' 'No such thing,' affirmed the forester; 'to-day is the 14th: it is Thursday.' So they went on disputing. At last the forester took out his pocket-book, on which he strikes out each day as it pa.s.ses, and there was a great stroke over Wednesday; and on Tuesday he had put down as a memorandum, 'To-day, at seven o'clock, the bailiff's father arrived: a very tall man, can drink plenty of punch;'

and on Wednesday, 'The bailiff's father has been asleep the whole day through.' Having read this, my governor got quite composed, and said, 'It's all correct: here we have it in black and white. Tuesday, I arrived at seven--a tall man--plenty of punch; all this tallies.

Wednesday is past. This is Thursday--this is the 14th.' After some musing, he cried, 'Where is my son Karl?' Then I entered, my arm bound up, and told the same tale as the forester, till he said, 'I am like one bewitched; I don't know what to think.' 'Why, don't you see,' said I, 'that I am out of bed? Yesterday, when you were asleep, the doctor came, and gave me leave to get up. Now I am so well that I can lift this chair with my stiff arm.' 'No more weights,' said the old man. Then I went on: 'I spoke of your case, too, to the doctor. He is a skillful man, and told us one of two things would happen: either you would go off, or sleep through it. If he sleeps throughout the day,' said he, 'he will get over it. It's a serious crisis. Such things will happen sometimes'--'To us porters,' chimed in the old man. And so it was that we got him out of his bed; and he was very cheerful. But I was anxious all day long, and never left him. At noon all was nearly lost when the farmer came in to speak to me. Luckily, though, the forester had locked the yard door, and so he went out and gave the farmer a hint. As soon as the latter came in, my father called out, 'What day is it, comrade?'

'Thursday,' said the farmer, 'the 14th;' at which my father's whole face broke out into a laugh, and he cried, 'Now it's certain; now I believe it.' However, he slept at the forester's that night too, that we might get the birth-day well over.

"The next day I took my father to the farm-yard, to the room next mine.

I had had it hastily furnished for him. Herr von Fink, who knew all about it, sent some good stout things from the castle; I had his old Blucher hung up, let in some robin-redb.r.e.a.s.t.s, and put in a joiner's bench and a few tools, that he might feel comfortable. So I said, 'This is your room, father; you must stay with me now.' 'No,' said he; 'that will never do, my manikin.' 'There is no help for it,' I replied; 'Herr von Fink will have it so, Mr. Wohlfart will have it so, Mr. Schroter will have it so; you must give way. We won't part again as long as we are on earth.' And then drew my hand out of its bandages, and gave him such a fine lecture about his unhealthy way of life, and his fancies, that he got quite soft, and said all manner of kind things to me. Next came Herr von Fink, and welcomed him in his own merry way; and in the afternoon our young lady brought the baron in. The poor blind gentleman was quite delighted with my father; he liked his voice much, felt him all over, and as he went away, called him a man after his own heart; and so he must be, for the baron has come every afternoon since to my father's little room, and listened to his sawing and hammering.

"My father is still a good deal perplexed at all he sees here, and he is not quite clear about that day he is said to have slept, though he must be up to it too, for ever since he often catches me by the head, and calls me a rascal. This word now replaces 'dwarf' and 'manikin' in his talk, although it is a still worse appellation for a bailiff. He is going to be a wheelwright, and has been cutting out spokes all day. I am only afraid he will work too hard. I rejoice to have him here, and if he once gets over the winter, he will soon walk off the weakness in his feet. He means to sell the little house, but only to a porter. He begs that you will offer it to Wilhelm, who now rents one, and say that he shall have it cheaper than a stranger."

CHAPTER XLIII.

A week after the death of Hippus, Anton was sitting in his own room, writing to Fink. He was telling him that the lawyer's corpse had been taken out of the river at the wear at the end of the town, and that the cause of his death was uncertain. A child belonging to the house in which the wretched man lived had told that, on the evening of the search made by the police, Hippus had been met in the street, near his own dwelling; since then, nothing had been seen of him. Under these circ.u.mstances, suicide did not appear unlikely. However, the police were of opinion that the crushed hat afforded evidence of violence. No papers had been found at his dwelling, and a second search had been made there without results. Anton gave it as his own opinion respecting the fearful event that Itzig was in some way connected with it.

At that moment the door was opened, the Galician hastily entered the room, and, without speaking a word, laid an old pair of spectacles, set in rusty steel, on the table before Anton, who, looking at the agitated face before him, sprang from his seat.

"His spectacles," hoa.r.s.ely whispered Tinkeles; "I found them close to the water. Just G.o.d! that any one should have such a fright as that!"

"Whose spectacles are they, and where did you find them?" inquired Anton, guessing at what the Galician lacked strength to tell, and looking with horror at the dim gla.s.ses before him. "Compose yourself, Tinkeles, and speak."

"It can not remain concealed--it cries to Heaven!" said Tinkeles, in great excitement. "You shall hear how it came to pa.s.s. Two days after I had spoken with you about the two hundred dollars, I went in the evening to the sleeping-room at Lobel Pinkus's. As I entered the court a man ran against me in the dark. I thought, is that Itzig, or is it not? I said to myself, It is Itzig; that is his run when he runs in haste. When I got up into the large room, it was empty, and I sat down at the table and looked into my pocket-book; and as I sat there, the wind rose outside, and there was a knocking in the gallery, as if some one was knocking who wanted to get in, and could not open a door. I was frightened, and put up my letters, and cried, 'If any one is there, let him say so.' No one answered, but the knocking went on all the time.

Then I summoned up courage, took up the lamp, and went into the gallery, and searched every room. I could see no one. And again there was the knocking close to me, and then a great crack, and a door flew open, which had never been open before, and from the door steps led down to the water. When I put the lamp near the steps, I saw that a wet foot had come up them, and the marks of it were to be seen all the way to the room--wet spots on the floor. And I marveled, and said to myself, 'Schmeie,' said I, 'who has gone by night out of the water into the room, leaving the door open, like a spirit?' And I was afraid; and before I closed the door, I once more looked along the steps with the lamp, and then I saw something sparkle in the light close to the water, on the last step of all, and I ventured down one step after the other: woe is me, Mr. Wohlfart, it was a hard task. The wind howled, and blew my lamp about, and the staircase became as dark as a well; and that which I picked up is yonder"--pointing to the spectacles--"the gla.s.ses that he wore before his eyes."

"And how do you know that they are the dead man's spectacles?" asked Anton, in painful suspense.

"I know them by the joint, which is tied round with black worsted. I have often seen him in Pinkus's room with those spectacles on. So I hid the spectacles, and thought to myself that I would say nothing about them to Pinkus, but give them myself to Hippus, and see whether he could be of use to me in business. I carried about the gla.s.ses till to-day, expecting to see him; and when he did not come, I asked Pinkus for him, and he answered, 'I know not where he is hiding.' And to-day, at noon, as I entered the inn, Pinkus came running toward me, and said, 'Schmeie,' said he, 'if you want to speak to Hippus, you'll have to go into the water; he has been found in the water.' It went through me like a shot when he said this, and I had to hold on by the wall."

Anton went to his writing-table, dashed off a few lines to the detective, who had not long left him, rang the bell, and desired the servant to take the note in all haste.

Meanwhile Tinkeles had sunk down on a chair, and kept muttering unintelligibly.

Anton, scarcely less agitated, paced up and down the room. At last the silence was broken by the Galician raising his voice, and inquiring, "Do not you think that the spectacles will be worth the hundred dollars you have for me in your writing-desk?"

"I don't know," curtly replied Anton, continuing to pace up and down.

Schmeie relapsed into exhaustion and silence. At length he looked up again and said, "At least fifty?"

"None of your bargaining at present," replied Anton, dryly.

"Why not?" cried Tinkeles, in dudgeon. "I have had a great fright; is that to go for nothing?" And he was again absorbed in distress.

The interview was interrupted by the appearance of the detective. This experienced officer made the Galician repeat his tale, took the spectacles, ordered a coach for himself and the reluctant Tinkeles, and said to Anton as he left, "Prepare for a sudden clearing up; whether I shall carry out my purpose is still uncertain, but there is a prospect for you of finding the doc.u.ments you seek."

"At what a cost!" cried Anton, shuddering.

The drawing-room in Ehrenthal's house was brilliantly lit up, and through the drawn curtain a slight glimmer fell upon the small rain that sank down like mist on the streets. Several rooms were opened; heavy silver candelabra stood about; bright tea-services, gay sets of porcelain--every thing in the house had been brushed up, washed, and displayed; the dark floor had been newly waxed; even the cook had a newly plaited cap--in short, the whole house was renovated. The fair Rosalie stood in the midst of all this splendor, in a dress of yellow silk, trimmed with purple flowers, gorgeous as a houri of Paradise, and, like them, prepared to receive her elect. Her mother smoothed the thick folds of her dress, looked triumphantly at her, and said, in a transport of motherly love, "How beautiful you are to-day, Rosalie, my only child!"