Debit and Credit. Gustav Freytag

have to pay five dollars to the councilor's clerk," continued the youth, "and I am to have a ducat for myself."

      "All right! you shall have the money; but first I must see Pinkus."

      Veitel hastened to his lodgings, and found Pinkus still much excited, and revolving all Ehrenthal's injurious speeches.

      In a few decided words, he gave him to understand that he was quietly to accept a hundred dollars, and to help Ehrenthal in this matter, else he, Veitel, would give the police a hint of the mysterious chamber in the next house, and of the smuggling guests; and further, that henceforth he must have a comfortable room on reasonable terms, and be treated no longer like a poor devil, but an equal. The result of which address was, that, after a good deal of useless fuming and fretting, Pinkus accompanied Veitel to Ehrenthal's house, where both worthies shook hands and came to terms; soon after which Veitel opened the door for Löwenberg, the wine-merchant, and was politely dismissed. This time he did not care to listen, but returned to enjoy his supper in his new apartment.

      Meanwhile Ehrenthal said, over a glass of wine, to Löwenberg, "I have heard that Councilor Horn has written for information respecting this mortgage to Commissary Walter, in your town. Is there any thing to be made of him?"

      "Not by money," answered the stranger, thoughtfully, "but possibly by other means. He does not know that I have been authorized by the count's attorney to sell this mortgage. I shall go to him, as if on business of my own, and take some opportunity of praising the property."

      "But if he knows it himself, of what use is that?" said Ehrenthal, shaking his head.

      "There will still be some use; for, after all, those lawyers must trust to us traders for details. How can they know, as we do, how wool and grain sell on estates? At all events, we must do what we can."

      Ehrenthal sighed, "You can believe, Löwenberg, that it makes me anxious."

      "Come, come," said the other, "it will be a profitable concern. The buyer you have in view pays ninety per cent., and seventy is sent to the count in Paris; of the twenty per cent. remaining, you pay the count's attorney five, and me five for my trouble, and you keep ten. Four thousand dollars is a pretty profit where no capital has been risked."

      "But it makes me anxious," said Ehrenthal. "Believe me, Löwenberg, it excites me so much that I can not sleep at night; and when my wife asks me, 'Are you asleep, Ehrenthal?' I have always to say, 'I can not sleep, Sidonie; I must think of business.'"

      An hour later a carriage with four horses rolled away from the door. The following morning Commissary Walter received a business call from Löwenberg, and was convinced, by the cool, shrewd manner of the man, that the circumstances of the Count Zaminsky could not be so desperate as was commonly believed.

      Eight days after, the baron received a letter from his legal adviser, containing a copy of one from Commissary Walter. These experienced lawyers both agreed in thinking that the mortgage in question was not positively undesirable; and when Ehrenthal next called, he found the baron's mind made up to the purchase. The irresistible inducement was the making a few thousand dollars. He was resolved to think the mortgage good, and would perhaps have bought it even had his lawyer positively dissuaded him.

      Ehrenthal, having a journey to take to that part of the country, most unselfishly offered to complete the purchase for the baron, who was pleased with this arrangement.

      In about a fortnight he received the deeds. All were well contented with their share in the business, but Veitel Itzig with most reason, for he had by it got a hold over his master, and was now friend and confidant in the most secret transactions. The baron took out his richly-inlaid casket, and, in place of the fair white parchments, put in a thick, dirty bundle of deeds. Having done this, he joined the ladies, and gave a humorous account of Ehrenthal's bows and compliments.

      "I hate that man," said Lenore.

      "On this occasion he has behaved with a certain disinterestedness," replied her father. "But there is no denying that people of his class have their absurdities of manner, and it is difficult to help laughing at them."

      That evening Ehrenthal was so cheerful in his family circle that his wife asked him whether he had settled the affair with the baron.

      "I have," he gayly replied.

      "He is a handsome man," remarked the daughter.

      "He is a good man," rejoined Ehrenthal, "but he has his weaknesses. He is one of those who require low bows and civil speeches, and pay others to think for them. There must be such people in the world, or what would become of people of our profession?"

      About the same time Veitel was relating to his friend, the ex-advocate, the whole particulars of the affair. Hippus had taken off his spectacles, and sat on a corner of the four-cornered chest Mrs. Pinkus was pleased to call a sofa, looking like a sagacious elderly ape who despises the race of men, and bites his keeper when he can. He listened with critical interest to his pupil's narrative, and shook his head or smiled, according as he dissented or approved.

      When Veitel had done, Hippus cried, "Ehrenthal is a simpleton. He is up to nothing great; he is always trying half-measures. If he goes on thus, the baron will throw him overboard yet."

      "What more can he do?" asked Veitel.

      "He must give him anxieties—the anxieties of business, extensive business, ceaseless activity, daily cares—that's what the baron could not stand. That class is accustomed to little work and much enjoyment. Every thing is made easy to them from their childhood. There are few of them who may not be ruined by having some great care always boring at their brains. If Ehrenthal wishes to have the baron in his power, he must entangle him in business."

      So said the advocate, and Veitel understood him, and looked with a mixture of respect and aversion at the ugly little imp gesticulating before him. At last Hippus took out the brandy bottle, and cried, "An extra glass to-day. What I have just told you, you young gallows-bird, is worth more than a bottle of brandy."

      CHAPTER XIII.

      "I am eighteen years old to-day," said Karl to his father, who was sitting at home one Sunday morning, never weary of contemplating the handsome youth.

      "So you are," replied the father; "there are eighteen tapers round the cake."

      "Therefore, father," Karl went on, "it is time that I should turn to, something, and make some money. I will be a porter."

      "Make some money!" repeated old Sturm, looking at his son in amazement. "Do I not make as much, and more than we want? Why, you are going to turn a miser!"

      "I can't always hang to your apron," said Karl; "and if you were to earn a thousand dollars, would that make an active, useful man of me? Or, if I were to lose you, what would become of me?"

      "You will lose me, boy," said the giant, nodding, "in a few years, perhaps, and then you may become what you like, so it be not a porter."

      "But why should I not be what you are? Do not be unreasonable."

      "You know nothing about the matter. Do not be covetous; I can not bear covetous people."

      "But, father, if I am not to be a porter, I must learn something," cried Karl.

      "Learn!" exclaimed his father; "how much learning have you not had stuffed into your little head already! Two years at the infant school, four at the city school, two at the industrial. Why, you have had eight years' schooling, and you know the different goods as well as a clerk. Why, you are an insatiable youth."

      "Yes; but I must have a calling," replied Karl. "I must be a shoemaker, tailor, shopkeeper, or mechanic."

      "Don't tease yourself about that," said his father; "I have provided for all that in your education. You are practical and honorable too."

      "Yes; but can I make a pair of boots? can I cut out a coat?"

      "You can," replied old Sturm; "try, and you'll succeed."

      "Very