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POPULAR WORKS AFTER THE GERMAN,

BY MRS. A. L. WISTER.

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QUICKSANDS

FROM THE GERMAN OF
ADOLPH STRECKFUSS

BY

MRS. A. L. WISTER

TRANSLATOR OF "THE OLD MAMSELLE'S SECRET," "GOLD ELSIE," "ONLY
A GIRL," "A NOBLE NAME," "THE SECOND WIFE,"
"BANNED AND BLESSED," ETC.

PHILADELPHIA

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.

1884

Copyright, 1884, by J. B. Lippincott & Co.

CONTENTS.

QUICKSANDS.

CHAPTER I.

[AN EXCHANGE].

Upon the short, thick grass of a small, secluded opening in a magnificent forest of firs and beeches a young man lay, his hands clasped under his head, buried in waking dreams. He had chosen himself a charming retreat, where he was safe from all intrusion from wayfarers passing through the forest by any of the roads or paths that intersected it at a sufficient distance from this spot. The soft, grassy sod was a delightful couch, and the interlacing boughs of a huge beech-tree formed above the head of the dreamer a canopy that entirely protected him from the burning rays of the mid-day sun.

Profound quiet reigned in the forest, intensified, rather than disturbed, by the humming of insects; the very birds which had twittered and sung in the early morning seemed silenced by the heat; all creatures sought repose and refreshment at high noon on this glowing July day.

If the young fellow who lay thus luxuriously bedded were seeking mental as well as bodily repose, it was evident that he had not found it. He was not asleep; his dark eyes were wide open, gazing restlessly and discontentedly into the spaces of sky among the beech boughs until pained by their brilliancy. "How tiresome! how unutterably stupid!" he muttered, altering his comfortable position so as to rest his head upon his hand as he leaned upon his elbow. "That deadly-tiresome, monotonous stretch of brilliant blue sky is the very image of my own weary existence. Nothing but light and splendour; it is intolerable. If the sky were only covered with clouds,--if there could be a flash here and there of lightning, with thunder crashing and winds howling, one might have some satisfaction in sending a bullet through one's brains with the thunder for a dirge. But no, even that is not to be. I am to die as I have lived, surrounded by weary, soul-destroying sunshine. Ah, well, it is a fitting end to an insignificant and utterly useless life. Come, little friend, it is high time we were done with it."

He took from his breast-pocket a small, richly-inlaid revolver, and looked at it with a degree of affection. "You have helped me through many a long, weary hour. This moment would have come for me long ago but for you and my piano. It certainly was interesting to learn to shoot one spot after another out of the six of hearts. It was irritating not to succeed in hitting each with the same precision. A useless and silly enough aim in life, to be sure; still it was an aim, and now that it is attained it is just as tiresome as everything else. To-day you are to find my heart as surely as the hearts on the card. Or suppose we try the head; it would be easier; an involuntary quiver of a muscle, and the ball might miss the heart, but if this barrel lightly touch the temple the effect must be sure. Three or four balls in the brain must produce death instantaneously. It is the better plan."

He examined the revolver and made sure that it was loaded; his hand did not tremble, his look was clear and steadfast; there was even a smile of satisfaction on his lips as he contemplated the little weapon. "You will do your duty as you have always done it. You never were to blame if every spot on the card was not exactly hit, although the clumsy marksman would gladly have declared the fault yours. As soon as hand and aim were true, each heart was pierced precisely in the centre."

He raised the pistol, and once more took in at a glance the scene around him, while his thoughts ran on: "Really, a lovely spot for my last act! Beneath these spreading boughs the body will lie comfortably on the soft grass,--for how long before it is found? For days, perhaps for weeks, the place is so secluded. I should like to know what they will say in Berlin when the newspapers announce, 'At last the body has been discovered of Egon von Ernau, who disappeared so many days or weeks ago,' etc., and there will, of course, follow a long description of the place where it was found, and of the condition and clothes of the corpse. The more there is to tell, the better for some poor devil of a reporter. I do not grudge it him. I can at least serve one man in the world by my death. And the news will fly like wildfire. It would be almost worth living for,--the hearing of all that heartless gossip. How busy all those empty heads will be with wondering what could have driven a fellow so favoured by fortune to suicide! 'An unfortunate love-affair,' the sentimentally disposed will declare. 'His father wished to force him into a marriage with a person of high rank, and in his despair he took his own life.' Of course they must invent some reason for a man's escaping from this wretched, wearisome existence. Fools! If life were worth living, why should I not comply with my respected parent's wishes? All women are alike. It is all the same tiresome sham."

He still held the revolver in his raised hand, when suddenly the hand sank by his side, and he sat up and listened.

A clear note broke upon the woodland quiet,--the sound of a man's tenor voice singing the hymn 'Rock of Ages' at no great distance from where Egon von Ernau lay.

He frowned angrily. "Confoundedly annoying!" he muttered. "If I shoot now, that stupid psalm-singer will hear it,--and then? Then all the delightful Berlin gossip will be spoiled, the body will be found immediately, and everything will be known to-morrow. No, no, those good people must puzzle their brains for a while to discover what has become of me. My Herr Papa must have some chance to show the world what a tender, anxious parent he is. We must choose a still more retired spot. But first let us see where the psalm-singer really is. He seems to have established himself in the forest here, for the sound continues to come from the same direction and from somewhere not very far off."

He uncocked his revolver, put the little weapon again into the breast-pocket of a very well made summer coat, and, rising to his feet, walked slowly through the wood in the direction whence came the sound of singing.

It was no easy task to make his way through the thick underbrush, particularly as he took great pains to make no noise. He wished to see the singer without being seen himself, and therefore he walked very slowly, and it was some minutes before he attained his purpose.

Still following the sound, he had reached the edge of the forest, and only a thick fringe of hazel-bushes obstructed his view beyond. Cautiously parting these he saw before him a landscape of extraordinary beauty. Beyond the velvet sward of a small meadow the land sloped down some eight or ten feet to a charming little lake, on the opposite shore of which green, smiling fields, stretched far away to the mountain-slopes of the distant highlands.

The young man gave but a fleeting glance to this lovely picture; he was far more interested in the singer, whom he now saw at no great distance.

On the brink of the lake the psalm-singer was kneeling, his head held stiffly erect, his bony hands clasped and extended to the skies, while, quite unaware of his listener, he continued his hymn in loud, resonant tones. He was a young man hardly older than twenty-six, although the sallow, flabby features of his beardless face, showing no trace of youthful freshness, might well have caused him to be thought older than he really was. His face was turned to the heavens, and he was staring into the deep, cloudless blue with prominent, lacklustre eyes. The large, thick-lipped mouth was wide open as he shouted out the last verse of his hymn.

He certainly was not handsome, and he was made far more repulsive in appearance than he might have been by the ill-fitting, unsuitable black clothes that he wore. An old-fashioned dress-coat, the long pointed swallowtail of which lay like a train behind him on the grass, hung in disorderly fashion about his bony frame; black, wrinkled trousers, a black waistcoat sufficiently open to display linen of doubtful cleanliness, a high, rusty, black silk cravat, from which projected the huge points of his shirt-collar on each side of his beardless chin, formed this extraordinary being's attire, which was, moreover, completed by a very tall and very shabby stove-pipe hat.

The hymn came to an end, but the singer did not change his attitude; he still held up his clasped hands to the skies. For a few moments he was silent; then, in a loud voice, he uttered an extemporaneous prayer.

"God of heaven," he cried, "a repentant wretch casts himself upon Thy mercy! Pardon my betrayal of my trust, my having again yielded to temptation. Pardon what I have done and what I am about to do. Receive me into Thy kingdom. Amen!"

With these words he suddenly sprang up; his clumsy black hat fell off upon the grass as he did so, but he paid it no attention. Clasping his hands above his head, he leaned forward, gazed for an instant into the deep green water of the lake, exclaimed, "God forgive me!" and plunged in head-foremost.

Thus far the listener had watched without stirring a limb or giving the slightest sign of his presence; but at this sudden termination of the prayer he broke through the thick underbrush, and in a moment had reached the spot whence the singer had taken the fatal plunge. Here he threw off his coat and hat, keenly scanning the while the lake where the man had disappeared, and where the water was still troubled and sending forth huge rippling circles, while a dark body was visible beneath the surface.

The young man looked about him for some piece of shelving shore where a swimmer could easily clamber upon land; scarcely ten steps to the left he saw what he desired, and in another moment the ripples of the lake broke over his head also.

He was an expert swimmer; when but a mere lad he had saved the life of a drowning comrade at the risk of his own, so tightly had the sinking boy clasped him in his despairing grasp. He remembered this as he now rose to the surface, and seeing a dark form directly before him he merely gave it a powerful push in the direction of the shelving shore, taking good care to avoid the grasp of the wildly struggling man. Keeping clear of this, he contrived to push him before him as he swam to the landing-place. As soon as he felt the ground beneath him, however, he seized the half-suffocated singer by the arm and dragged him ashore. The rescue had been easy, and had occupied but a very few moments of time.

For a while the rescued man lay gasping on the bank; then he started up and gazed wildly at his preserver, who stood quietly looking at him. The unfortunate man presented a still odder and uglier appearance than before; his long black hair hung in dripping locks over his pale face, and his wrinkled coat clinging to his spare figure was more ridiculous than ever.

"Why did you not let me die?" he cried, wringing his hands.

The young man half smiled. "You are right," he replied; "it was very stupid of me. It always is so when I act upon the impulse of the moment. Had I taken time to consider I should have said to myself, 'This gentleman is tired of life and voluntarily puts an end to it; you have no right to interfere with so reasonable a proceeding.' I should then have seated myself up there on the bank, and have looked on as you came two or three times, to the surface gasping for breath, sinking to rise again, and hastening your death, perhaps, by the frantic efforts you made to retain a detested existence. Finally, you would have sunk to rise no more, and at this moment you would be lying quiet and comfortable, with only a slight quiver of the limbs, at the bottom of the lake. My impetuosity has deprived me of an interesting spectacle and prevented your fulfilment of a sensible and laudable intention. I pray your pardon, and would suggest that you can repair the wrong I have done. We are but a few steps away from the high bank whence you took your plunge into the lake. The spot was admirably selected, for the water here is too shallow for your purpose. I promise you that you shall not be disturbed again; I will look on with the greatest interest."

The young man's quiet words filled his hearer with horror; his arms dropped by his sides, and his prominent eyes opened wider and protruded still farther from his head. He shuddered at the description of his death-agony; he looked in fear at his preserver, who could talk so calmly of such horrors, and when the latter proposed that he should try another plunge into the lake he was seized with a nameless dread. Involuntarily he recoiled a step, and with a gesture of abhorrence cried, "No, no, I cannot! It was too horrible! When the dark water closed over me, and I sank deeper and deeper, the suffocation, the dreadful noises in my ears, the throbbing in my temples--no, I cannot do it again!"

"Indeed? True, death by drowning cannot be agreeable; I have heard so before from one of my acquaintances who very nearly lost his life in the water. The death-struggle is too long; it must be most unpleasant. Now, a bullet through the head is instantaneous. I will make you another suggestion; I owe it to you since I have interfered with your plans in so uncalled-for a manner. My coat lies on the bank yonder; in its breast-pocket there is a six-barrelled revolver. I was just putting it to my temple when I was arrested by your song. I only need two or three balls for my purpose. Come up on the bank with me, wait until my work is done, and my revolver is at your service. How people will wonder when the two bodies are found after a while lying peacefully side by side! What odd stories will be told of a duel without witnesses, or some such stupid nonsense! It is a pity one cannot be by to hear them. Come, we will soon make an end of the tiresome affair."

"I cannot! I cannot do it a second time! Good God! I can neither live nor die! Help me, I implore you! Shoot me down with your revolver; I cannot do it myself! Kill me! I will bless you with my dying breath!"

He flung himself upon his knees, wringing his hands, as he implored his preserver to kill him, but the young man shook his head decidedly, as he replied, "Very sorry, but the part of an executioner does not suit me; one must conclude such matters one's self, or let them alone. If you will not comply with my suggestion, there is nothing for you but to go on living. I wish you joy of it."

"Good God! what shall I do? I implore you to help me, to advise me!"

"How can I possibly advise you, when I have no knowledge of you or of the circumstances that have driven you to despair?"

"I will tell you about it. I am the most miserable man in the world! You have saved my life, and I will confide my wretchedness, my disgrace, to you."

The young man looked down thoughtfully for a moment before he said, "Very well, tell me. An hour more or less makes no difference. Let us sit down in the shade on the grass; you shall pour out your woes to me, and if I can give you help or counsel, I will do so."

"Will not the shade be rather too cool for us in our wet clothes? We might catch cold."

The young fellow laughed aloud at this strange mixture of despair and dread of taking cold.

"Well, then, sit in the sun," he said, still laughing. "I prefer the shade, since a cold is of no consequence to me. And now, since we find ourselves comrades after this odd fashion, here at our ease, you can initiate me in the dark mysteries of your life. I promise you an attentive listener."

He had thrown himself down beneath a huge beech-tree, while his companion was looking for a seat on some stone in the blazing sunshine.

"My wet clothes will soon dry here," said the singer. "When they are dried on the body they do not lose their shape." And as he spoke he looked down sadly at the long wet tails of his coat as they draggled dripping behind him. There was no trace to be seen in him of the contrition and despair which had possessed him a few moments since, his whole mind was given to the choosing of a spot in the sunshine. At last he found a fragment of rock which suited him, he sat down upon it, and leaning forward propped his elbows upon his knees and his chin upon his hands. In this attitude he looked, as his companion could not but inwardly observe, like a strange caricature of incredible ugliness. He paused a while to reflect, and then began, in a whining, lachrymose tone,--

"I have always been a child of misfortune. The Lord has punished me with the greatest severity for my sins, although I have tried to lead a pious, resigned life, however heavily His hand might be laid upon me. Wherefore, O Lord, shouldst Thou thus visit Thy most devoted servant----"

He could not go on, for his listener had stopped his ears, and exclaimed angrily, "Stop, stop! nothing in the world is quite so detestable and tiresome as circumlocution. If I am to listen, you must be brief, simple, and unaffected. Let us have no whining sentimentality. I hate it! Give me a clear, simple statement of facts."

"Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh," was the reply to this blunt interruption of the man's flow of eloquence. "I will command my emotion, if I can, out of regard for you, my preserver. I have always been unlucky; my very name was a misfortune,--not my first name, Gottlieb, which I received in holy baptism, but my surname, Pigglewitch. I always see a smile of derision upon the lips of those who hear it for the first time, when a boy I was always laughed at for my name, and this trial has never left me. But I will not murmur; it is the Lord's will that I inherit such a title, and His ways are always right. How can we, weak mortals that we are----"

"Hold, friend Pigglewitch! You are forgetting again. No preaching!"

"I have done," Gottlieb Pigglewitch replied, instantly subsiding into an ordinary narrative style. "My father was pastor of Wilhelmshagen. I scarcely remember him, he died when I was not quite six years old; my mother had died at my birth, and her brother now took me home, or rather kept me in my home, for he succeeded to my father's position. He said he befriended the orphan for the love of God, but he never showed me any affection, even as a little child I had to work hard for my daily food, he employed me to tend first his geese and afterwards his sheep. I was sent with the other village children to the village school, but as soon as I came home I had to work for my uncle, and the dread of a beating often made me perform tasks that were far beyond my strength. I was given many a blow, with very little to eat, and never a kind word; my uncle declared that I was a good-for-nothing, lazy young hypocrite and liar, who could not be treated too severely, I was fit for nothing but a stupid tiller of the ground. As such he meant to bring me up, but Herr Brandes, the Schulze of Wilhelmshagen, befriended me. He had been a friend of my father's, and would have taken me into his house and brought me up with his daughter Annemarie, who is two years younger than I, only he did not wish to interfere with my uncle.

"Nevertheless he stood my friend, and often when I was very hungry I got a good meal at his house; little Annemarie, too, would sometimes bring a piece of bread out to me in the fields and stay a while and play with me. Those were the only happy hours I can remember as a child. It was a time of sore trial, and I, unworthy sinful man----"

"Friend Pigglewitch!"

"Ah, to be sure! Well, the Schulze befriended me. 'After all, he is a pastor's son,' he said to my uncle, 'and every one is saying that he is being brought up like the son of a day-labourer.' My father had left me a small patrimony amounting to about a thousand thalers, and Herr Brandes told my uncle that he ought to demand a portion of this from the Guardians' Court, to be spent in sending me to town to school, where I might be suitably educated. At first my uncle refused to do this, he found me too useful on the farm, but he yielded at last to the Schulze's representations, seeing clearly that he should lose credit by refusing any longer to do so. So I was sent to town to board with one of the teachers of the public school. I nearly starved there, and I often wished myself back in Wilhelmshagen, where I could always get something to eat at the Schulze's, for Annemarie was sure to put by a morsel for me. From the public school I went to college, and I have passed my examination as a Candidate for the ministry. The Lord was gracious to me. My mind moves slowly, and when I went up for examination I was conscious of ignorance with regard to various branches of secular knowledge. I was afraid of being plucked, but the Herr Director encouraged me. He told me to trust in the Lord, who would not forsake the most faithful of His servants. So I went up for examination, and passed, although all my fellow-students predicted my failure. Immediately afterwards, through the influence of the Herr Director, I obtained a position as private teacher in Wilhelmshagen. I was delighted to receive my first employment in my old home. My uncle had left the place for a better parish in Wennersdorf, in Silesia, and I was quite free. Never have I felt so happy as then. I never dreamed that the Lord was about to try me beyond my strength,--poor, sinful man that I am. I had hitherto lived with the greatest economy. I had never had a penny in my pocket. My comrades at the public school and in college cared nothing for me,--they called me a hypocrite, laughed at me when I failed in my lessons, and would have nothing to do with me. Now I suddenly found myself freed from all restraint. I had a position, and moreover, as I was of age, the rest of my patrimony amounting to five hundred thalers was paid over to me. I had money and friends. The sons of the wealthiest peasants made much of me; formerly they took no notice of me, now they felt it an honour to have me join them at the village inn and drink a glass or play a game of cards with them, which last I was only too glad to do. I never could resist the sight of a card. Often, when I returned home at night after having lost my money at play, I repented with tears and vowed never again to touch a card. I prayed to the Lord for strength to keep my vow, and resolved never to go near the inn again; but the next Saturday evening the temptation was sure to be too strong for me. I could not resist it.

"The Schulze had received me with great cordiality upon my return to Wilhelmshagen, and Annemarie had fallen upon my neck and given me an honest kiss. I was always welcome at the Schulzenhof. I loved my dear Annemarie, and she returned my love."

The young man, who lying stretched upon the grass had hitherto listened quietly, only interrupting the narrative now and then with a word of warning when Gottlieb Pigglewitch's discourse grew too unctional, started and sat upright when the speaker uttered the word love. He stared in amazement at the forlorn, bedraggled figure perched on the stone before him. Could it be? That caricature of humanity was talking of love, and there was a girl in the world who returned the affection of a Gottlieb Pigglewitch!

The young man's surprise was so evident that Gottlieb became embarrassed. "What is the matter?" he asked timidly.

"My worthy Pigglewitch, you have converted me to a belief in miracles. Seriously I begin to have faith in them. In fact is it not a miracle that I am actually interested in you and your history? I thought that nothing in this tedious world could entertain me; you have shown me that I was mistaken. Go on with your story. You had just come to where you loved and were loved in return."

"Yes, so it was. It was a brief period of bliss," Gottlieb Pigglewitch went on, with a deep-drawn sigh. "I trifled away my happiness by my own folly. The Schulze, who had received me so kindly, altered his treatment of me after a while. He remonstrated with me once or twice, telling me that it was not the thing for a teacher to sit until midnight of a Saturday drinking and playing cards with the young fellows of the village, such conduct was, at all events, quite beneath the son of a pastor, who, as such, ought to stand upon his dignity. I promised him then to shun the inn, but when Saturday came I could not withstand the burning desire for play. I dreamed of the cards and of the gains they might bring me, I had to go whether I would or not. Then, when I went the next evening to the Schulzenhof, Annemarie would receive me with tearful eyes, and her father with hard words. I was no longer welcome there, and I knew why. A hundred times I vowed improvement, but in vain. In short, I went on playing,--I could not help it,--and because I almost always lost, I drank too much in my despair. Several times my companions had to take me home drunk. I was most unfortunate. After living three years in Wilhelmshagen, I had to leave it. I had lost my entire patrimony at play, and with only twenty thalers in my pocket I had to look for another situation. When I bade farewell to Annemarie, I thought I should have died, only the hope of seeing her again sustained me. I knew that the Herr Director in town would befriend me and procure me another situation. I told the Schulze this, and since I was on the subject of my hopes, I confessed my love for Annemarie, and declared my intention of returning to ask for her hand so soon as I had found another situation. I should not have had the courage to say this to him had I not just bidden good-by to my comrades in the inn parlor, where I had taken a glass more than was good for me. The Schulze did not let me finish my sentence, he called me a vagabond, a gambler, and a drunkard, who had squandered his patrimony, and who never should marry his child. If I ever became a respectable man once more, and could save up from my earnings the five hundred thalers I had lost, I might come to see them again, but not until then. And he thrust me from his door without even letting me give my Annemarie a farewell kiss. With despair in my heart I left Wilhelmshagen. My patron, the Herr Director, to whom I first applied, received me with a severe reproof; but when I had described with many tears my struggles, my agony, and my firm resolve to do better, he took pity upon me, and got me a situation in Berlin with a salary of twenty thalers a month."

"You could not possibly live in Berlin upon twenty thalers a month!" his hearer exclaimed.

"But I did do so. Of course I had to practise strict economy, and I could not lay by anything; but, as I had no acquaintances there to tempt me to drink or play, I got along. I had been more than a year in Berlin, when just three weeks ago to-day I received a letter from my patron, the Herr Director. He wrote me that he had heard with pleasure from my principal that I had become a respectable, industrious man. As there is more joy in heaven over one sinner----"

"Pigglewitch!"

"Well, the Herr Director wrote me that he had recommended me for a very advantageous situation to a Frau von Osternau, of Osternau, in Silesia, who had applied to him for a tutor for her son, a boy six years of age. I was to reside with the family and receive three hundred thalers yearly. I could enter upon my duties immediately. He enclosed a letter of introduction to Frau von Osternau, and another to my Principal requesting him to put no obstacle in the way of my good fortune, but to release me immediately from my engagement to him. I was supremely happy. Three hundred thalers and my board! I could save up two hundred thalers a year, and in two years and a half at the latest I should have my five hundred thalers again. I went instantly to my Principal, who, however, declared that he could not possibly spare me before the 3d of July. This I wrote to the Herr Director, and in a few days heard from him in reply that Frau von Osternau was willing to wait, and that she would expect me on the 6th of July."

"The 6th of July? Why, that is the day after tomorrow."

"Precisely. The day after to-morrow. I left my situation yesterday,--a day of misery which has ruined my life forever. So soon as I received from the Herr Director the letter which confirmed my hopes of the situation at Osternau I wrote to my Annemarie and told her of my good luck, in three years at the furthest, I wrote her, we should be married. I had written several letters to her during the year, and had received no reply from her; now I had an answer by return of mail. Her father had forbidden her, she told me, to reply before, but now that he had hopes of my becoming a respectable man once more, he had permitted her to write. She would be true to me, and surely wait the three years for me, but she was nevertheless afraid that we never should be man and wife, for she was forced to go with her father across the sea to America. They had been very unfortunate,--their farm-house had been burned down just after harvest, before the crops had been insured, and her father had therefore resolved to dispose of his farm and to try his fortune in America. Everything was prepared for their departure. Her father was to bring her to Berlin on the 1st of July, that he might receive the last payment of the purchase-money of his estate, and on the 3d they were to leave for Bremen, whence their passage to America was taken. I might expect them at the railway-station on the evening of the 1st, and we could at least spend a few hours together. It was a dear, good letter, as good and kind as my Annemarie herself. I wept as I read it, so transported was I with delight. She would be true to me. In three years I should have enough to follow her to America. Perhaps I could buy a small farm there with my five hundred thalers, and become a farmer. The world lies open to the man who has money, he can purchase every conceivable delight."

"Do you think so?" the listener drawled, contemptuously. "But go on; I beg pardon for interrupting you."

"On the evening of the 1st I received the Schulze and Annemarie at the railway-station, and went with them to the little inn where they were to lodge. Annemarie was unchanged, and the Schulze was as cordial to me as he had been formerly. He read my patron's letter carefully, as also the testimonial which my Principal had given me. He expressed his satisfaction with my plans for the future, and promised that he would give me Annemarie so soon as I could show him five hundred thalers of my own. His confidence in me was entirely restored, as was shown me the next day, when, after he had received all the purchase-money for his estate, he intrusted to me twelve hundred and seventy-two marks to hand over to my uncle in Wennersdorf. Many years ago my uncle had loaned this money upon interest to the Schulze, and had always objected to its repayment, but now, upon the eve of his departure for America, the Schulze as an honest man insisted upon returning it. On my way to Osternau in Silesia, it would be very easy for me to turn a little aside and visit my uncle Widman, at Wennersdorf. The Schulze impressed it upon me to get a receipt for the money and transmit it to him. I had a delightful day with my Annemarie and her father, and yesterday morning I accompanied them to the railway-station, where I took leave of them. At noon I was to leave for Wennersdorf, whence, after leaving the money with my uncle Widman, I could continue my journey to Osternau. Everything was ready for my departure.

"When Annemarie and her father had left me, and I turned away from the railway-station, my heart was so heavy that I could hardly bear it. I felt so weak, so forlorn, that I needed something to strengthen me, and I turned into a small restaurant to get a glass of beer. I seated myself at a table, and I had hardly done so before three men, who had entered the house just after me, took their places at my elbow. In the early morning we four were the only people in the room. The men talked for a while, and then began to play cards,--lansquenet,--taking no notice of me. I looked on, not thinking of playing; but when I saw the thalers passing from hand to hand, as the game grew more absorbing, my interest grew keen, and the wretched passion for play was again aroused within me. I was seized with an uncontrollable desire to join the game. The Evil One had me in his clutches once more----"

"Go on, Pigglewitch, go on!"

"Forgive me; I could not help it. I was, indeed, possessed by a demon. I asked the gentlemen if I might take part in the game, they assented, and in an instant I had joined them. I had not played for more than a year, but the passion for gambling had got hold of me. I lost, doubled the stakes, lost again, and went on increasing the stakes in hopes of winning back my money. Still I went on losing, in my desperation I drank glass after glass, everything reeled before my eyes, and when at the end of an hour I had staked my last piece of money, I suddenly became conscious that I had gambled away my life. I was a thief condemned to jail, for I had lost not only my own money, but the sum intrusted to me for my uncle. I sat alone at the table, the gentlemen had left me, finding I had nothing more to lose, and I had not noticed their departure. The last hour seemed to me like an evil dream. I laid my head upon the table and wept. After a while a waiter roused me and requested me to leave, my score had been paid by my friends. I staggered out of the place. How I reached my lodgings I do not know. I lay in a feverish stupor all day long, in the evening I came to myself. How terrible was my awaking! I now saw clearly what I had done. I knew that I was lost. My uncle would demand his money of me. I should be handed over to the authorities as a thief. I should be sent to jail. I was lost,--lost past rescue. But I would die sooner than be sent to jail.

"Suddenly there arose in my memory the picture of the lake of Wandelitz. How often in my boyhood had I wandered away from Wilhelmshagen to this quiet lake in the forest, and, seated upon the bank yonder, passed hours in dreaming and gazing down into the green depths of water! The thought of it came to me like an inspiration. I gathered myself together. On the chair beside my bed lay my travelling-bag, I packed it early in the morning for my noon-day departure, and it contained, as I now remembered, ten silver thalers, every penny I possessed in the world. It was enough to purchase a ticket for Wilhelmshagen, whither I might go by the night train. I scarcely know what followed,--how I set out, how I arrived here. I only remember that I sang a hymn, and then--well, you know the rest. I am an unfortunate, miserable wretch!"

"You're a very queer fellow, friend Pigglewitch," the other declared, in answer to Gottlieb's last desperate exclamation. "You are a compound of contradictions. I do not understand you, and least of all can I comprehend how a fellow can be so overwhelmed by despair at losing a paltry twelve hundred marks at cards. Such a trifle!"

"I was horrified at the prison which awaited me," Pigglewitch declared. "Oh, I am lost,--lost beyond all hope!"

For a while his companion made no reply, but sat looking dreamily across the lake, while he mechanically plucked to pieces a tiny wild-flower. His face, rather handsome than otherwise, suddenly lost its habitual expression of weary indifference, a smile played about the lips, the dreamy eyes sparkled.

"Friend Pigglewitch," he said, scrutinizing keenly the odd figure before him, "an idea has suddenly occurred to me,--an original, some sensible people might call it an insane, idea! You, friend Pigglewitch, play an important part in the development of this idea. You please me, you interest me, and that is saying a great deal, for I assure you that it is years since I have taken any interest in anything, or any pleasure in a living creature with the exception of my Bello, an abominable mongrel pug, whose intense ugliness pleased me. But, as I said, you too please me. It would be no end of a pity if so magnificent a sample of humanity should be early snatched from this world by despicable suicide. I now rejoice that I pulled you out of the water. You must live!"

"Why do you jeer at me?" Pigglewitch asked, in a doleful tone of reproach. "I have done you no harm, and have told you all my story."

"In return for which you shall have mine, with but some trifling reservations. It is but reasonable that you, in return for this recital of your life and its woes, should listen to mine. It will be much shorter than yours, for I really have had no experiences. My name is--but why need you know my name? you cannot care for it, and I am quite sure you will find it easier not to mention it if you do not know it. Since from my earliest infancy Fortune has showered upon me her choicest gifts, I will call myself Fritz Fortune. Yes, Fritz Fortune had from his birth everything that mankind considers a means of happiness. His health was perfect, they say he was a very handsome boy, he had quick powers of mind, a lively intelligence which enabled him to learn without trouble; he was the only son of an immensely wealthy father, his every desire was fulfilled before it was expressed. He had everything, everything, except one mere trifle of no real consequence in life,--affection. The stupid fellow, however, thought he wanted it. He loved his kind, and longed for love in return, but he did not find it. His mother had no time to bestow upon him. She was wonderfully lovely, and always surrounded by a crowd of adorers. There was not a moment of her day not given to society or to dressing for some grand entertainment, how could she possibly find a moment to devote to the boy, who was, besides, admirably cared for by a most expensive tutor and an excellent housekeeper? When Fritz Fortune was ten years old his mother died suddenly of disease of the heart. He did not miss her, for he scarcely knew her. His father was a model parent, he was willing to make any sacrifice for the child, upon whom he lavished enormous sums of money, save one,--the sacrifice of his time, which was devoted partly to business, but mostly to pleasure. Weeks passed continually without the boy's even seeing his father, but then no toy was too expensive to be purchased for him so soon as he expressed a wish for it to the housekeeper, there was no delicacy upon which he might not feed until it disgusted him. Everything, everything save affection was lavished upon him. Was he not the silliest of lads in that so far from being contented he sometimes shed bitter tears over his lot? He had soon done with tears, however. His tutor did just as the boy told him to, and the housekeeper and all the servants followed his example. Fritz Fortune's will was never gainsaid, if he had not chosen of his own accord to go to school, he never would have been sent there, but he was tired of his home, and hoped to be better entertained at school, consequently to school he went. There too luck pursued him. As he was clever enough and studied diligently, not from love of books but to beguile the time, he learned readily. He outstripped his school-fellows, and they consequently hated him, but as his pockets were always filled with money and school-boy dainties which he scattered with a lavish hand, the young rogues took care to conceal their dislike of him. They flattered the son of the wealthy banker, and for a short time the boy was really happy, for he thought himself beloved by his school-mates, for whom he had a sincere affection. Chance opened his eyes. He accidentally overheard a conversation between two boys whom he thought his best friends. Every word then spoken revealed their hatred, their mean envy of their comrade. It was enough. Fritz Fortune no longer lavished either gifts or affection upon his school-fellows, and they no longer concealed the true nature of their feelings towards him. They pursued him with falsehoods and calumny. There was a fresh battle to be fought at every recess, he was agile and strong, and declined none of them. Since he returned every blow with interest, and in addition had the teachers on his side, so that after a fight his opponents were the ones selected for punishment, he came out of all these contests victorious. He continued to be Fortune's favourite, but he was not happy, he was solitary and alone among his fellows.

"When only sixteen years old he passed a brilliant examination and entered the university, where he studied,--that is to say, he fluttered about from one science to another. There was no need of his pursuing any laborious course of study: he was wealthy in his own right by inheritance from his mother, and was, besides, the only son of an immensely wealthy father, who gave him everything save affection. His career at the university was as successful as at school. Whatever he attempted was a success. He was a capital boxer, an untiring swimmer, a bold rider,--he was an object of admiration and envy.

"He had learned somewhat at school, his bitter experiences there had not been lost upon him. Again he scattered his money with a lavish hand, he was surrounded by flatterers and friends, but he now knew what they were worth. He despised the rabble of young men as he had despised their childish prototypes, but he was too wise to let this be seen. Solitude was too tedious. He wanted to enjoy life. To do this he needed jolly companions, his money bought him these. He drank deep of all these delights of student life, he was always surrounded by a merry throng of so-called good friends, but he was often wretchedly forlorn and unhappy.

"The wild, gay life that he led filled him with disgust, he forced himself to seem carelessly merry when he was constantly a prey to mortal ennui. Of course Fritz Fortune was a favourite with women. He had not in appearance fulfilled, it is true, the promise of his boyhood, but he was by no means an ugly fellow, and, what was far more to the point, he was rich, very rich. He was everywhere received with distinction,--the mothers flattered his vanity, the daughters met his advances far more than half-way. Once or twice, when a pair of blue eyes looked innocently into his own, when a rosy cheek blushed rosier still at his words, he thought the glance and the blush due to his real self, his heart beat high, hope dawned within him, but he was sure to be cruelly undeceived. Some skilled coquette behind a mask of maidenly innocence had been speculating upon his wealth, but Fortune still befriended him in that he discovered in time the net in which he was to have been caught. He escaped, it is true, but every vestige of his faith in mankind was left behind him in the toils that had been spread for him.

"When he left the university he had not decided upon a career. Should he take part in his father's business? He had no inclination to do so. Why should he devote himself to the accumulation of wealth? The business was in trustworthy, competent hands; his father, it is true, was at the head of it, but he paid little attention to its details; more as a pastime than as a necessity he spent a couple of hours in his counting-room every day, all the rest of his time was devoted to pleasure. He had no desire that his son should apply himself to business. He was so tender a father that he gladly fulfilled his son's every wish, only asking in return that his son should not interfere with him or with his little amusements. Could a son ask more of a parent? Certainly Fritz Fortune's was a most enviable lot. He was surrounded by young men of rank who called themselves his devoted friends, and he was an idol among women. Wherever he went he was treated with distinction, he drained every delight of the German capital to the dregs, there was no necessity for his denying himself a single pleasure. Whatever money could procure might be his, for his father's cashier stood ready to honour his drafts to any amount. What could he desire more? And yet the foolish fellow was absolutely wretched; he had but one wish, and to fulfil it money was of no avail,--he wished to be relieved from the mortal tedium of an insufferable existence. The amusements of the capital disgusted him, society bored him, he had no interest in any pursuit, he could not decide to pursue any particular branch of study; even music, which had formerly helped him to pass many a lonely hour, no longer attracted him. In glowing physical health, his weary mind was 'sickening of a vague disease,' his only wish being to close his eyes never to open them again.

"It was some time before it occurred to him that it was within his power to gratify this wish by a firm resolve. He had become too indolent even to think, but yesterday this brilliant idea occurred to him. It was suggested by his reading in the morning's paper that a young banker of his acquaintance had shot himself. What in this case had been done in despair might also be done to put an end to the tedium of existence. His spirits improved on the instant, the mere thought that he could rid himself of his burden dissipated his weariness for a while.

"He pondered upon what his numerous dear friends would say if he should suddenly vanish from Berlin, leaving no trace of his whereabouts. His fancy was excited. He made all sorts of plans for best putting an end to his wretched existence without causing an immediate report of his death to be spread abroad in Berlin.

"For the first time for years he was really entertained for a couple of hours, so great was his interest in the different schemes thus contemplated. Forthwith he proceeded to the carrying out of his resolve. He drew from his father's bank a considerable sum of money, that his friends might be led quite astray as to his disappearance, called upon several acquaintances, showed himself at the theatre, and left Berlin by the night-train.

"Some years previously, in a summer excursion, he had noticed a charming forest in the neighbourhood of Wilhelmshagen. He remembered that one might wander there for hours and find no thoroughfare.

"In this forest he determined to search out a secluded spot, where his body might lie undiscovered for weeks. This plan he pursued. Was he not Fortune's favourite? He saw no one whom he knew at the railway-station. He made his journey entirely alone, in a first-class carriage, and, reaching Wilhelmshagen in the early morning, entered the forest without meeting a human being. Every trace of him was lost, no one could surmise what had become of him. For some hours he wandered about until he found a spot suitable for his purpose. Here he lay down upon the grass, and once more passed in mental review his entire wearisome, frustrated existence, it seemed to him so forlorn and pitiable that he was but confirmed in his resolution. He was about to carry it into effect, he had in fact raised his revolver for the purpose, when he heard a hymn sung near at hand. He dropped his hand, and--the rest you know. This is the history of Fritz Fortune. How do you like it, my worthy Pigglewitch?"

Gottlieb stared at the narrator with unutterable astonishment in his prominent eyes. "And is that all?" he asked, thinking it impossible that he had heard the end of the tale.

"Do you wish for more? As I told you, my story is brief, but edifying."

"Were you then going to shoot yourself out of mere ennui, Herr Fortune? It is inconceivable, impossible! I am almost always bored, especially when I am alone, but it never occurred to me to shoot myself upon that account. How can such an idea enter the head of any one who has money?"

A bitter smile hovered about Fortune's lips. "That precisely the view of the mass of mankind," he said. "Whoever has money must be happy, and the silly fools rush after wealth, never perceiving that there is no greater misery than what they call happiness. If I were poor, if I had to strive and contrive for a pittance for my daily bread, if I had a single aim in life worth attaining, I too might perhaps endure existence. This thought occurred to me while you were telling your story, and I suddenly fancied that I should like to try whether existence under your circumstances could make the burden of life supportable. Should it prove as devoid of interest, as tiresome and insufferable as my former existence, I can always have recourse to my faithful revolver. I will make you an offer, friend Pigglewitch. If you accept it, it will help us both, you perhaps forever, myself at least for a while, but that is not your affair. The dearest wish of your heart at present is to be able to pay your uncle his money, and to gain as quickly as possible the five hundred thalers to enable you to follow your Annemarie to America. Are you willing to make a sacrifice to accomplish this end?"

"Any, every sacrifice!" Pigglewitch cried, eagerly. "Ask what you will of me, it shall be done."

"I will not ask much. You shall have the round sum of three thousand five hundred marks--just enough to pay your uncle, replace your patrimony, and take you to America--if you will give me, to dispose of as I may see fit, your beautiful name of Gottlieb Pigglewitch, with the necessary articles and documents thereto belonging,--to wit, your testimonials, credentials, letter of introduction to Osternau, etc., and, above all, your beautiful black suit, which fits you so admirably,--promising also to go direct from here to Wilhelmshagen, whence you can send your uncle his money, and whence you promise to take the next train, by way of Berlin, to Bremen, where you will embark in the first vessel bound for America, and all this without revealing to a living soul the occurrences of the last two days."

"You are making game of me, Herr Fortune," Pigglewitch said, in his most lachrymose tones; "but I must endure it, for you have saved my life."

"Don't mention it. That is a debit and credit affair. Had you not sung your hymn I should be lying in the forest with a bullet in my brains, and you would be reposing peacefully beneath the green, crystal waters of the lake. You certainly owe me nothing, and need think of nothing save your own advantage in deciding whether or not to accept the bargain I offer you, for I am not jesting. I make you the serious offer of three thousand five hundred marks cash, payable upon the receipt of your name, your credentials, your clothes, which you can exchange for mine,--and not a bad exchange either, it seems to me,--and lastly, of your express promise to emigrate immediately to America."

"Are you really not joking? Three thousand five hundred marks----"

"Cash. I pay en amateur. I like the beautiful name of Pigglewitch, and your black coat, with its long, pointed swallow-tail, enchants me. I am sure it will become me admirably."

Pigglewitch looked doubtfully at the young man, who spoke so calmly, but whom he was inclined to pronounce insane. "What do you want to do with my name and my credentials?" he said.

"I have lived a long time as Fortune, and for the sake of variety I should like to live and labour for a while as Pigglewitch. For how long? I do not know; and besides that is not the question between you and me. I shall go on living from day to day until the Pigglewitch existence also becomes intolerable to me. Come, decide, friend Pigglewitch; will you accept my proposal or not?"

Gottlieb reflected. Herr Fritz Fortune was evidently quite insane. Only a madman would kill himself from ennui when his pockets were full of money. His offer was a crazy one, but what business was that of Gottlieb Pigglewitch? The proposal was most tempting,--three thousand five hundred marks. He might well sell his credentials, which would be valueless in America, for such a sum. Why should he not in his need accept an offer which would lay the foundations of his fortune? It would be unpardonable folly not to seize with both hands so unexpected a piece of luck.

"If you are really in earnest," he said, with a suspicious look at Herr Fortune,--"I can hardly believe it,--but if your offer is made seriously, I will accept it."

"Bravo, friend Pigglewitch! you are a delightful fellow!" cried Fortune. "There's my hand, the bargain is concluded."

With some hesitation Pigglewitch took the offered hand. He was still in some doubt, but this vanished when Fortune sprang up and led him up the bank whence a short time previously each had thrown himself into the lake. Here upon the short grass lay Fortune's coat and hat, with Pigglewitch's tall beaver and travelling-bag. In the breast-pocket of his coat Fortune found a pocket-book, which he opened, taking from it a thick bundle of bank-notes of a thousand or five hundred marks each, with here and there one for a hundred only. At this sight everything glimmered before the astonished eyes of Pigglewitch, who had never before seen so much money together. And the happy possessor of this wealth, which seemed quite 'beyond the dreams of avarice,' had very nearly killed himself voluntarily a short hour previously. Oh, the poor fellow was evidently mad, quite mad!

Meanwhile, Fortune selected three bank-notes of a thousand marks each, and ten hundred-mark notes. "Here, friend Pigglewitch," he said, "are four thousand marks; our bargain was for three thousand five hundred, but I add the rest and make the four thousand complete on condition that you make over to me your travelling-bag and its contents. I should like to begin my new life fully equipped as Pigglewitch. Do you agree?"

"Oh, certainly. You are most generous. I thank you from my soul, but----"

"But? Go on; why do you hesitate?"

"If you really wish to assume the life of a poor man like myself you must not carry about you so well filled, a pocket-book."

Fortune looked up in surprise. "You are cleverer than I thought," he said; "you are right. It were best to throw the entire rubbish into the lake, where it can do no mischief."

"For God's sake, take care what you do, Herr Fortune!" Pigglewitch exclaimed, in dismay, seizing the young man by the arm as he was about to toss the pocket-book into the water. "It is a sin to destroy all that beautiful money. If you do not want it, give it to me."

Fortune's hand fell by his side, he reflected for a moment, and then said as he looked at Pigglewitch with a smile, "The appetite grows with eating. A moment ago four thousand marks seemed wealth to you, now you would like to have more. No, friend Pigglewitch, four thousand marks is enough. If you cannot begin life afresh with that sum, a larger one would assuredly plunge you into misery. But you were right, nevertheless, to prevent me from destroying this money, it would have been folly. I always act foolishly when I follow the impulse of the moment, and I thank you for hindering me. I will keep the pocketbook. There is no danger for me in the money, I know its worthlessness. Give me your travelling-bag. Is there a key to it? Yes? Thank you. I will deposit the pocket-book here in this bag, where it shall remain untouched. And now we will exchange clothes. I am longing to don your charming black suit as a bride longs to deck herself in her veil. We are about the same height, we shall have no difficulty in the matter."

He took off his cravat and waistcoat, and with a shake of the head Pigglewitch followed his example. In a few minutes the transformation was complete. Fritz Fortune in the wet black suit confronted its amazed former possessor; the clothes, 'a world too wide' for his slender, muscular figure, dangled and hung loosely about him, he clapped the tall black hat upon his head and exclaimed with a laugh as he looked at himself in a small pocket-mirror which he had taken from his own coat, "Horrible! ugly beyond belief! Indeed I am worthy of you, friend Pigglewitch. But my poor fellow, how you look! You have the worst of the bargain. My new summer coat suits you about as well as does a dress-coat a poodle. Look at yourself!"

He handed Pigglewitch the little mirror. Gottlieb contemplated his image with much complacency. He thought he presented an aristocratic appearance in his elegant attire, and said so.

"Are you pleased? So much the better," said Fortune. "Then we are both satisfied. And now, friend Pigglewitch, let us take leave of each other, but first swear to me by all that you hold sacred, by the very salvation of your soul, that you never will reveal to a human being what has taken place between us, and that you will sail for America as soon as possible."

"I swear it, so help me God! Amen!" Pigglewitch rejoined, raising his hand towards the skies.

"Farewell, my worthy other self, then. Farewell until we meet in another world more pleasantly than we did in this. You are going towards Wilhelmshagen. My way lies in an opposite direction. Farewell."

He shook Pigglewitch cordially by the hand, took up the travelling-bag and hung it by the handle on the end of a stick, which he rested upon his shoulder. Then, with an elastic step, he started for the forest.

CHAPTER II.

[OSTERNAU].

Castle Osternau is situated in the midst of a country distinguished not for any conspicuous or unique beauty of natural scenery, but for luxuriance of cultivation. The undulating landscape forbids an extended view, it is only from the summit of some of the larger hills that the long range of the Riesengebirge can be discerned in the distance. All sight of this range is shut off from Castle Osternau itself by low hills.

Nevertheless, the country about the castle is by no means wanting in charm. The richly-cultured fields waving with golden grain, the luxuriant, flowery meadows, which lie like broad green ribbons among them, the dark forests which bound the horizon do not it is true combine to form a scene of majestic magnificence, but the landscape is full of a tender, benignant beauty, and in the eyes of Herr von Osternau, who was agriculturist to his very heart's core, there was in all Silesia no more beautiful spot than his dear Osternau. A field of wheat was far more lovely in his eyes than the most picturesque bare rocks. The steep mountains, available only for the cultivation of timber and inaccessible for the plough, where the peasant toiled laboriously to earn a scanty subsistence, were odious to him. An extensive, level, cultured plain was his ideal of beauty. It was hardly attained in the gently-undulating fields of Osternau, but, so far as luxuriance of cultivation was concerned, they left nothing to be desired.

All the lords of Osternau had been capable, practical agriculturists. The love of agriculture had descended for centuries from father to son with the entailed estate. Its proprietors had successively, from time immemorial, resided at Castle Osternau and personally superintended the management of its extensive lands, the younger sons only had devoted themselves to a diplomatic career, and, for the most part, not for long. So soon as they could lay claim to a pension from the government they had followed their natural bent, resigned their positions, and retired to Castle Osternau, where they had loyally assisted the elder brother in the management of his estates. But few of these younger brothers had ever married, most of them had died bachelors. Thus the male descendants of the Osternau line had never been numerous. At present there were but three of them. The head of the house, Friedrich von Osternau, had but one son, a boy six years of age, and only one male relative, a cousin, Albrecht von Osternau by name, who had for a long time considered himself the heir-at-law, since the marriage of Friedrich von Osternau had been blessed for some years with a daughter only. When this daughter, however, had reached the age of eleven, the birth of a son had blasted the young man's hopes of succeeding to the estates.

Albrecht von Osternau was a young, pleasure-loving officer. As the future possessor of Osternau, he had cared very little for the fact that he had gambled away and squandered his patrimony in a few years. His credit was good, for it was supposed by the Berlin money-lenders that the present owner of Osternau was consumptive and could live but a few months longer at the furthest. But the victim of consumption lived not only months, but years, and just when his death was predicted with great certainty, he astonished the world with the news that a son and heir was born to him.

It was a fearful blow for Lieutenant Albrecht von Osternau when he suddenly learned, in a very kind letter from his cousin, that his expectations in life had crumbled to ruins. With his prospects of inheritance his credit also vanished. His creditors, hitherto most patient, besieged him, and in one case, where he had imprudently given his note of hand, he was threatened with a complaint to be lodged with his commanding officer. Until now the lieutenant had never found any difficulty in covering one debt with another; this was no longer possible. The money-lenders, who had formerly considered it an honour to accommodate the Herr Lieutenant, rudely refused compliance with his wishes.

In his great need, Albrecht von Osternau decided to apply to his only relative, the head of the house, although until now he had had but little intercourse with him. He paid a visit to Castle Osternau, where he was received with open arms. The good-natured Friedrich considered it a duty to indemnify his only relative, in some measure at least, for his shattered hopes. He recognized the severity of the law of entail which cuts off all the younger branches of a family from a share in the wealth which is lavished upon the heir, and he thought it quite natural that Albrecht should have heretofore ordered his life upon a scale commensurate with his expectations.

Since the state of his own health had prevented him from leading any but the simple life of a country gentleman, he was in the habit of yearly laying aside considerable sums, which were usually, however, expended in the improvement of the estates, wherefore his private property was not very large. Nevertheless, he gladly sacrificed a considerable amount of money in paying his cousin's debts.

Amply provided with means, Albrecht returned from Osternau to Berlin. He arrived there a day too late. His merciless creditor had already sent to the colonel of the regiment a notice of the note that was due. Upon the payment of his claim he would gladly have recalled it, but, since the colonel had received it, the latter was obliged to advise the young officer to send in his resignation from the service.

Albrecht's military career was ended. It must shortly have terminated at all events, for with his expensive tastes and habits he could not possibly have maintained his position as cavalry officer of the guards without loading himself with debt. What was he to do? At the age of twenty-four, in the very flower of his youth, he found himself without a future.

Once more he found a kind and ready friend in his cousin, to whom he confided his misfortune. Baron Friedrich invited him to come to Osternau, there to follow the traditions of the family in devoting himself to agriculture.

The luxurious young officer, accustomed to the delights of the capital, unused to work of any description, after living a careless life of pleasure among his wealthy comrades, was to bury himself in a lonely castle, where, in the society of an invalid cousin and his simple-hearted wife, he must spend his weary days in a pursuit that was odious to him. He who had been free as a bird of the air after the easy duties of his daily service were over, must now be his cousin's slave, condemned to constant occupation, obedient to command, assuming the part of an upper superintendent upon the very estates which he had been wont to consider as his own in the future. Could the munificent compensation offered him by his cousin atone to him for what he relinquished, for the delights he must resign? He felt no gratitude towards his generous relative; he hated him as he had always envied him. For years he had set all his hopes upon the death of the man whom he had believed a prey to consumption. These hopes were now annihilated, and he felt almost inclined to reproach his cousin for still living, and for being blessed with a direct heir. How could he be grateful to the hated relative whose subordinate, whose slave he was doomed to be? The thought was intolerable; and yet, hard as this lot was, no choice was left for the ruined officer. Again and again he destroyed the letter in which he had tried to accept his cousin's offer with thanks. He ground his teeth as he wrote out the hollow expressions of his gratitude, but there was no help for it, he had to write them, and when the letter was finally finished he paced the floor of his room in a frenzy of envy and disgust.

In a few days he followed his letter to Castle Osternau, and from that time all the male members of the ancient family were united beneath its roof. Albrecht occupied some elegantly-furnished rooms in the third story of the castle; the windows of his sleeping-room looked out upon the court-yard, those of his other rooms upon the garden.

The head of the family himself occupied the second floor of the castle. He was so enthusiastic a farmer that he quite despised the lovely view of the castle gardens. His delight was in overlooking from the windows of his sitting-room the spacious court-yard, with its busy throng of servants and labourers. If the state of his health confined him to the house, he thus contrived still to maintain a supervision of his people. He would sit at these windows from early morning when the weather was bad, only leaving his post to repair to the dining-hall at dinner-time. From half-past two until half-past four was his only time for recreation or repose. If the weather were propitious he spent the entire remainder of the day out of doors, in the fields, on foot or on horseback, in the court-yard and stables. He took an interest in the smallest details of his extensive agricultural operations without relaxing in his strict general superintendence. The Osternau estates were regarded all through the country as a model of good management.

The castle court-yard was a huge quadrangle, one side of which was formed by the extensive structure of the castle itself. Its spacious barns were on the opposite side; to the right were long rows of stables for horses and cows, and to the left were those devoted to various breeds of sheep. In the midst of the large space thus enclosed was a pond for watering the cattle, and beside it stood a shed, beneath which was a fire-engine.

Perfect neatness and order reigned in the court-yard; the keen eye of the master of Osternau saw to it that these were always strictly maintained. He certainly was the gentlest and kindest of masters, but he could not endure the slightest disorder. Even the huge muck-heap before the cow-stables, the pride of its possessor and the ornament of the court-yard of an agricultural estate, was well kept, and gave no impression of uncleanliness; indeed, the neighboring landed proprietors regarded it with admiration when they drove past the court-yard on their way to pay a friendly visit to Herr von Osternau. They preferred to go round the narrower country road, past the court-yard, to gain the front entrance to the castle, rather than to approach it by the broader road leading directly from the highway.

CHAPTER III.

[THE CASTLE'S LORD AND LADY].

Herr Fritz Von Osternau, the lord of the castle, was seated in his room at the open window looking discontentedly out upon the court-yard. In consequence of over-exertion he had suffered for some days from a violent attack of the spasmodic cough which many years previously ignorant physicians had pronounced consumption. These attacks of a chronic malady were not dangerous. The famous Mitterwurz, of Berlin, when consulted by Herr von Osternau, had assured him that with care he might regard his cough as a warrant for length of life, but care he must take. In stormy or very warm weather he must stay in the house, he must avoid violent exercise, and never ride far afield even in fair weather after an attack of coughing, as physical exertion might provoke a return of it. Since this verdict of the famous physician's, Frau von Osternau never had allowed her husband to indulge in his agricultural mania when he had coughed during the night. She would permit him to take a short walk, upon which she always accompanied him that he might not be induced to prolong it, and he was obliged to return to the castle after an hour at most of sauntering. He obeyed her at such times reluctantly, but still he obeyed, and thus he was sitting to-day at the open window instead of being where he longed to be, out in the fields superintending the harvesting. It was so tiresome to gaze out into the sunlit court-yard, where not a person was to be seen, every man and maid, as well as a host of day-labourers, being busy with the harvest.

Profound quiet reigned in the spacious quadrangle: even the poultry had retired to the barns out of the glowing sunshine and were silent. The court-yard was so lonely and deserted that its master grew tired of looking out of the window, and taking up a book he tried to read. But it would not do, his thoughts were with the harvesters, and the book did not interest him. He laid it down with a sigh of impatience.

"This sitting idly here is intolerable," he said to his wife, who was seated near him knitting diligently. "I detest laziness. Everybody is busy in the fields, and I sit here doing nothing. I cannot bear it any longer, Emma, I must go out, and besides there is no use in taking care of myself any longer, I have not coughed once for two hours."

Frau von Osternau dropped her knitting in her lap and looked at her husband with a smile. She was not beautiful, but her smile was wonderfully lovely and lent a charm to her face, revealing such simple kindness of heart that one forgot, in looking at it, its irregularity of feature, and in spite of her forty years she was still youthfully attractive. Her smile was really irresistible: it was sure to overcome any rebellion against her wishes upon her husband's part; when he would have obstinately resisted any severity of manner, he was powerless against his wife's smile.

"Dear Fritz, you forget your wretched night," she said, gently. "You coughed so terribly that neither of us slept an hour, and now you want to go out into the hot sun with the harvesters. For my sake, dear, stay quietly in your arm-chair. It will soon be noon, and the men will be back in the court-yard."

Herr von Osternau muttered some unintelligible words, but resigned himself to his fate with a sigh, and made another fruitless attempt to read.

"Emma," he said, after a pause, "do you know that to-day is the 6th of July?"

"I believe it is; but what makes you think of it?"

"You know we expected the tutor on the 6th."

"Then he will surely be here in the course of the day."

"I wish he would fail to keep his appointment. It would be a good reason for getting rid of him. I confess I cannot reconcile myself to your idea of having a tutor. We should have been wiser to engage a governess for Fritzchen. A cultivated, well-born young woman is a pleasant addition to one's household; she could easily have taught Fritzchen all he need learn for a couple of years, and it would have been well for our romp Lieschen to acknowledge a more strict control than yours."

"Do you imagine that Lieschen would have submitted to it? You know I thought at first of engaging a governess for Fritzchen, but our experiences with Lieschen's governesses were too terrible. I could not try that experiment again. If Liese drove her governess to desperation when she was a child of seven, it is hardly likely that she would be very docile as a girl of seventeen. She is too unaccustomed to control. No, no, it is better as it is. And I may as well tell you, Fritz, although I know how you will laugh at me, that when I wrote to Director Kramser I made it a stipulation that the young man whom he should send to us must be positively ugly. This I did in view of the position I wished him to occupy with regard to Liese, who is to take music-lessons of him."

"Oh, Emma, Emma! what an extraordinary idea!" Herr von Osternau exclaimed, with a laugh.

"It is impossible to be too prudent," Frau von Osternau said, gravely. "Lieschen has an antipathy to everything ugly, there could be no danger for her in an ugly, awkward man. Director Kramser is, as you know, an old friend of mine, he used to be tutor to my brother Karl----"

"I remember him," her husband interrupted her. "I used to see him at your father's before we were married. A very unattractive, awkward young man, but in spite of that he has had a very successful career, I believe."

"He certainly is rather awkward, but very good-humoured, and as honest and good a man as ever lived. I have great confidence in him. I told him so in my letter, and frankly confessed to him the reason why I wanted an ugly tutor. I did not wish that there should be any danger for Liese in taking music-lessons of him, and I am quite sure that Kramser will have had a regard for my wishes in this respect."

"No doubt of it, so far as ugliness is concerned," her husband rejoined, with a laugh. "Speak of an angel, and you hear the rustle of his wings; there comes the tutor. Come to the window, Emma; there, I am certain, comes your protégé across the court-yard. Heavens! what a scarecrow!"

Frau von Osternau hastened to her husband's side and looked out of the open window. His exclamation had made her curious; she too had a slight shock, and could not but admit that 'scarecrow' was not too strong an expression, when she saw the young man who had entered the court-yard by the gate between the barns, and was now leisurely coming towards the castle across the deserted quadrangle. He was still too far off to allow of her distinguishing his features, but his figure was certainly suggestive of a scarecrow. With his clothes hanging loosely upon his long limbs and the tails of his black coat dangling against his legs, the man looked like a caricature. His tall, rusty hat, as well as his coat, seemed the relic of a bygone age. With a shabby old travelling-bag hung over his shoulder on the end of a stick, he sauntered slowly along, casting curious glances about him. Herr von Osternau continued to stare at the strange figure as it gradually approached the castle. "Most certainly your friend has obeyed your directions with regard to the ugliness, Emma. And we are to have this scarecrow living beneath our roof and eating at our table? Why my food will choke me with that thing before my eyes!"

"He really does look almost too ugly," his wife replied, rather meekly; she began to feel that she had laid too much stress Upon ugliness in her letter to the Herr Director.

As the man came nearer, and her keen eye could distinguish his features, she thought they did not quite correspond to the impression made upon her by his figure. He could hardly be called very handsome. The nose was too large, the mouth, shaded by a large moustache, not sufficiently well formed, and the face was too pale to be pronounced very handsome; but surely the large, dark eyes might be so considered, as they looked observantly about the court-yard; and when, upon advancing sufficiently near the castle to perceive Herr and Frau von Osternau at the window, the man lifted his hat courteously, his manner of doing so was such a contradiction of his appearance that Frau von Osternau hardly knew what to think. The head from which the hat was lifted seemed by no means repulsive, the dark, expressive eyes lent it a certain interest.

Herr von Osternau's impressions with regard to the stranger were identical with his wife's. "A very odd person," he observed, as the man disappeared beneath the window. "I am really curious to see him." His wife said nothing, but looked eagerly towards the door of the sitting-room. She had not long to wait. In a moment Hildebrandt, Herr von Osternau's old personal attendant, appeared, to announce that a very odd-looking stranger had arrived with a travelling-bag; his name he said was Gottlieb Pigglewitch, and he asserted that he was the Herr Tutor whom madame expected.

Old Hildebrandt looked grave when his mistress desired him to show in the Herr Tutor immediately, and he ventured to observe that the man did not look like a respectable tutor, but like some tramp who had stolen his ill-fitting clothes; nevertheless he obeyed his mistress's reiterated order, and ushered Herr Gottlieb Pigglewitch into the sitting-room.

When the tutor appeared on the threshold of the door, which Hildebrandt held open for him, Frau von Osternau could not but be struck again by the contrast between the young man's exterior and his air and bearing. He held his shabby old hat in his hand with the careless grace of a gentleman paying a morning call, and the bow with which he greeted the mistress and master of the house was respectful but easy. As he bowed, the large, dark eyes rested keenly for an instant upon Frau von Osternau, and were then turned with the same observant glance upon her husband.

The shyness and the awkwardness which are wont to attack young men unused to society upon first meeting persons of rank were evidently unknown to Herr Gottlieb Pigglewitch. He approached Frau von Osternau, and bowing again slightly, said, "Madame, allow me to introduce myself as the Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch, whom Herr Director Kramser has recommended to you for a tutor. I beg to thank you for your kindness in consenting to postpone my entering upon the duties of the important post assigned me until to-day, and to assure you that I am now ready to fulfil them to the best of my ability. Yes, I confess that I greatly desire to enter upon the honest performance of them. I am eager to teach your little son what you would have him learn."

It was an odd speech, and there was certainly no trace to be found in it of the formal tone always adopted upon every special occasion by the Herr Director Kramser in his youth. Everything about the young man was different from what Frau von Osternau had expected to find it. She was not easily embarrassed, in her gentle, kindly way she was used to be equal to any emergency, but, oddly enough, she hardly knew how to treat this tutor whom she had engaged, this young man who was henceforth to occupy a superior position among the dependants of her household. She had thought it but natural and right that she should not be at all disturbed by his entrance, and should calmly proceed with her knitting, but it was laid aside, and she felt obliged to receive him as she would have done a morning visitor of her own rank, as in a few courteous words she expressed her pleasure in seeing him and motioned him towards a seat.

Herr von Osternau's sensations were of a similar kind. He too rose from his chair and left the window as the tutor entered, and when the latter took a chair near the sofa, in compliance with Frau von Osternau's invitation, her husband seated himself likewise, and felt himself impelled to continue the conversation his wife had begun.

"I am glad to find you so punctual, Herr Pigglewitch," he said, with a kindly nod. "I am quite sure, from the representations of Herr Director Kramser, who is an old friend of my wife's, that you will inculcate fidelity to duty and punctuality in your teaching of my Fritz, but I must warn you upon one point. I prefer to undertake my son's training myself in all matters bearing upon religion. It is of importance to me that his views upon such subjects should agree with those of his parents."

At this explanation a smile hovered about the young man's lips. He inclined his head courteously towards the master of the house as he replied, "I thank you for relieving me of your son's religious instruction, since it is the department in which I feel myself least fitted to impart knowledge."

"That surprises me. I should have supposed the contrary from Herr Director Kramser's letter."

"Herr Director Kramser is probably disposed to judge too favourably of my capacity and acquirements. I frankly confess that I have had doubts whether I am capable of instructing and educating a boy, whether I am not wanting in conscientiousness in undertaking an office for which I may have no vocation. I decided to do so in a moment of excitement. Perhaps I should not have done so. Still, I may be able to overcome all difficulties, and accomplish my desire to do well and honestly what is required of me. I do not know whether I possess the patience, force, and talent required for the task, but I will hope so. I owe it to you to be frank with you, Herr von Osternau, and I pray you to permit a trial of my capacity,--a trial to which I concede your right to put an immediate stop provided I do not fulfil entirely to your satisfaction the duties required of me."

Herr and Frau von Osternau listened in increasing surprise to these words, which they could scarcely comprehend. They exchanged significant glances, and for a moment Herr von Osternau was doubtful whether it would not be best to dismiss Herr Gottlieb Pigglewitch at once. However, the young man's last sentence allayed his doubts. There could be no harm in making the trial of which he spoke. Therefore he replied, "I accept your proposal, although I confess myself surprised by your manner of making it. I really cannot understand how a Candidate, who has gone through the schools and passed his examination, should doubt his ability to instruct a boy of six."

"I have never been a private tutor."

"Indeed? You doubt then your success in imparting private instruction? That shows a laudable modesty. You certainly will have some difficulties to overcome. Fritzchen is an undisciplined little fellow. It will be hard to induce him to study, and as for Lieschen----"

"Lieschen? I beg your pardon. I thought my duties were confined to the instruction of a boy."

"True. But, since Herr Director Kramser wrote to my wife that you were very musical, we thought you might give some lessons weekly upon the piano to our daughter Lieschen. I am of course ready to make them an object of special remuneration."

"Not at all. You have relieved me from instruction in religion; instead I will gladly give lessons in music."

"You play the piano very well, as Herr Kramser informs me, and you have a fine voice," Frau von Osternau observed.

"So it is said, I believe."

"So Herr Director Kramser wrote me," the lady rejoined, in a tone sharper than it was her wont to use. She was aggrieved by the small degree of estimation shown in the young teacher's words for the Herr Director. "I shall be very sorry if your talent and capacity in this respect have been overrated by the Herr Director, for I laid special stress in my letter to him upon my desire that the tutor whom I engaged should be a good musician, not only because I wished that Lieschen should take lessons, but principally upon Fritzchen's account. I consider it of the first importance that a child should receive his primary instruction in music from a competent teacher."

"I cannot tell whether I shall be able to satisfy your desires in this respect, madame. I am but a dilettante, and have never given lessons in music. Here also I must pray you to make trial of me, as I will also try to adjust myself to my new duties. The future must show whether I can succeed in pleasing you and in satisfying myself. Will you allow me to give you some idea now of the amount of artistic skill I possess? the fine instrument yonder invites the test. You can at least judge whether my execution and touch are satisfactory, whether my voice pleases you. One does not like to purchase an article without first examining it; why should you engage a music-teacher without first hearing him? He can, unfortunately, give you no instant proof of his ability to impart instruction, but this is the case with every kind of teacher. I know from sad experience how large is the number of musicians, whom Heaven in its wrath has allowed to teach, who bring to their calling only the merest superficial facility, without the smallest vocation for teaching."

He arose as he spoke, and, without waiting for Frau von Osternau's permission, went towards the grand piano. It was open; Frau von Osternau, no mean performer herself, had been playing an hour or two before for her husband's entertainment, and had not closed it. Herr Pigglewitch looked at the notes upon the music-desk. "Beethoven," he said. "Is your daughter then so far advanced? It is refreshing nowadays to find such music open upon a piano. Young ladies whose execution is sufficiently brilliant to play the 'Moonlight Sonata' usually prefer to exhibit in what is called drawing-room music. Cultivated taste is but little thought of nowadays. The popular performers are those who can make most noise, and rattle off the greatest number of notes in a given time. I abhor such mere execution as I do the sentimental stuff so popular with the ladies of the present day."

Very admirable sentiments these, but in their ease and freedom of expression so very different from anything that Frau von Osternau had expected to hear from the tutor recommended by Director Kramser, that she looked in wide-eyed wonder at the singular person who, turning over the music and talking thus, appeared to have forgotten for the moment the purpose for which he had gone to the piano.

She believed herself exalted far above any aristocratic prejudice of rank; she prided herself upon the humanity and kindness of her treatment of inferiors, even of servants. The Inspectors of the estate and the various governesses she had employed had been treated almost like members of the family, she never had required of them the servile respect customary among people employed in such capacities by many families of rank, but the negligent ease of Gottlieb Pigglewitch's manner and address seemed to her scarcely permissible. She was tempted to recall him to a sense of his position, but while she was pondering upon how this could best be done, the young man had seated himself at the piano, his fingers were wandering over the keys, and in another moment Frau von Osternau had completely forgotten that she had wished to reprove, so intense was her enjoyment of the man's wonderful playing.

He had taken his place at the instrument to give some proof of his musical ability, but no sooner did his fingers touch the keys than this was quite forgotten, He had not played for weeks, he had even felt a kind of dislike of music, to the charm of which he had so often yielded involuntarily. In the melancholy in which he had been plunged life appeared to him so shallow and wearisome that he could not spur himself to the exertion of extricating himself from its cheerless misery. But now, when the first tones of the piano responded to his touch, they awakened within him memories of hours in which he had lost himself and revelled in the world of melody and harmony, music cast its spell around him once more, life dawned upon him afresh, and he gave expression in his playing to this feeling. He improvised so wondrously that Frau von Osternau was profoundly touched, and her husband forgot to look out into the court-yard, where the men were returning from the fields, he forgot all else save the music, to which he listened with head bent and clasped hands.

The last chord died away, the player dropped his hands from the keys upon which his gaze had rested dreamily, and turned to Frau von Osternau with a smile.

"Pardon me, madame," he said, "I forgot myself, and have given you my own wild fancies. I could not resist the impulse of the moment, it is my misfortune that I lack self-control. But I will try to improve, and will make an instant beginning by praying you to suggest something you would like to hear, only begging you not to ask to-day for what is mere technique. We will postpone that to another hour."

Frau von Osternau's eyes were moist as she replied,--

"You must play no more at present. I would not have the pleasure you have just given me disturbed by a single other note. You are an artist, a divinely-inspired artist, Herr----" She hesitated; she could not bear at the moment to pronounce the ridiculous name Pigglewitch, but it had to be done, nevertheless, and as she uttered it the spell that had held her was broken. The man's name recalled her to prosaic reality; again she was aware of the ugly, old-fashioned coat with its long pointed tails that hung down behind the music-stool and reached to the ground. There sat before her no longer the artist who had transported her to 'a purer ether,' but the Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch, awaiting her further commands.

"There is no need, Herr Pigglewitch," she continued, "that I should hear anything more to be sure that you are capable of giving my children instruction in music, the future must show whether to teach is your vocation in life. Let us make the trial, and discover whether you are fitted for the situation, and whether you can be comfortable in fulfilling its duties. I frankly confess to you that I have my misgivings. You do not at all answer to the idea I had formed of the tutor recommended to me by the Herr Director Kramser, but then reality seldom corresponds to the representations of our imagination. With your consent, Fritz," she added, turning to her husband, "I beg Herr Pigglewitch to consider himself from this time our children's teacher."

"I give it with all my heart," Herr von Osternau replied, with a nod, offering his hand to the young man, who had left his seat and approached him. "There's my hand, Herr Pigglewitch, we will all put this matter honestly to the test. If we are unsuccessful, we can part friends, but I hope we shall succeed. From this moment the castle is your home, and I pray you to consider it such. My old Hildebrandt will show you to the rooms that have been prepared for you, and I will send Fritz to you that you may make acquaintance with your pupil. We dine at three, you can use the time until then in establishing yourself in your new quarters. At table and while coffee is being served we can perhaps discuss some plan of instruction. We will detain you no longer at present."

Pigglewitch, upon whom Herr von Osternau's kindly manner made a most agreeable impression, thanked his employers courteously, and when old Hildebrandt appeared in answer to a touch upon a silver bell on the table beside his master, the young man followed him after a graceful bow to the lord and lady of the castle.

Silence reigned for many minutes in the room he had left. Frau von Osternau had taken up her knitting, the needles clicked incessantly as they always did when the lady was lost in thought. Her husband was the first to speak. "Tell me frankly, Emma, how you like your protégé."

"I really do not know. I cannot make up my mind."

"Nor can I. A very strange fellow! He attracts and repels me. I called him a scarecrow when I saw him coming across the court-yard, but as he sat playing at the piano, and his dark eyes fairly shone, I thought him really handsome."

"So did I. What are we to think? But indeed since my good old friend Kramser has recommended him, we need be under no anxiety."

"It is odd though. I never should have imagined that so prosaic, commonplace a man as Kramser would have recommended so singular a person. How can the young fellow have been led to adopt teaching as a vocation? Will he, do you think, ever tame down the spirit that sparkles in those eyes to the dull routine of every-day life? If he does, we shall have cause for gratitude to your friend Kramser for many an hour of enjoyment. You were right when you called him a divinely-gifted artist."

CHAPTER IV.

[A CATO IN GOLDEN CURLS].

"Beg pardon, Herr Candidate, I must request you to follow me."

Old Hildebrandt bowed as he spoke these words, and proceeded to conduct Herr Gottlieb Pigglewitch to his apartments. In a corner of the hall lay the ancient travelling-bag. Pigglewitch would have picked it up to carry it to his room himself, but this Hildebrandt would by no means allow. "I will call a servant," he said, taking the bag from the young man's hand, and in answer to his twice-repeated call of "Johann!" a footman appeared, who was taken to task for his dilatoriness and ordered instantly to carry the Herr Candidate's portmanteau to his room.

Johann scanned the figure of the stranger contemptuously, mentally comparing the threadbare coat of the latter with his own well-kept livery. It was really quite derogatory to his dignity to carry such a fellow's luggage up the stairs. "It's not my place to fetch and carry for him!" he was mentally ejaculating, when he suddenly encountered the glance of the stranger's eye, and what he saw there was in such contrast to his shabby exterior that he meekly took the bag and obeyed Hildebrandt's directions.

The old servant led the way up the broad staircase and along a wide corridor, at the end of which he threw open a door with "This is your sitting-room, Herr Candidate."

Pigglewitch was most agreeably surprised by the appearance of the apartment into which he was ushered,--a large, comfortably-furnished room, lighted by two broad windows. The low, chintz-covered sofa, with its large pillows, the big arm-chairs, the piano in one corner, the well-filled book-shelves, the study-table, all gave the place a refined air of comfort which gratified the young man's taste. He was especially pleased to find a piano here,--his dormant love of music had suddenly revived. Formerly his piano had been his best friend, he greeted it once more with joy.

He went to the window, which looked out upon a charming old-fashioned garden filled with bloom, and an extent of close-shaven lawn.

The old servant allowed the young man time to observe the prospect, and then remarked, "This door leads into your bedroom, Herr Candidate, where you will find your wardrobe and conveniences for washing, and where Johann has left your bag. The family dines at three o'clock punctually, and Herr von Osternau likes to have every one in the dining-hall as the clock begins to strike. It would be well if you would set your watch by the castle clock so as to be dressed by five minutes of three, when I shall with your permission show you the way to the dining-room. Madame likes to have every one dress for dinner; the Herr Lieutenant always does so, and when the Herr Inspectors are too busy to do so they dine in the Inspector's room and do not appear at table."

"You wish me to dress, then?" Pigglewitch asked, with a smile.

"If you please, Herr Candidate; I do not mean to presume, but you will like to know the custom of the household. Should you require anything further, you will be good enough to pull your bell three times in succession; the Herr Lieutenant rings twice and Herr von Osternau and madame once only. Johann will obey your summons immediately."

He bowed and left the room, leaving its occupant gazing thoughtfully out of the window. He looked across the blooming flower-beds, the velvet lawn, the luxuriant shrubbery, his eyes sought the distant horizon while his thoughts took shape in a half-muttered soliloquy: "The first step in the new life is taken, and everything differs utterly from my anticipations. Where is the haughty aristocrat, the scornful lady, whom I hoped to inspire with horror by my appearance? What has become of the struggle with arrogant self-assertion to which I looked forward? Positively my ill luck, the tiresome good fortune which has been lavished upon me ever since I was a child, pursues me here also, my irresponsible folly has introduced me to a household where any man save myself would be perfectly happy. Was it worth while to don Pigglewitch's ridiculous attire to be pursued here too by my fate? And, besides, how can I answer it to my conscience to deceive these worthy, unsuspicious people? If they were what I imagined them, arrogant, brutal, looking down with contempt upon the man whose services they had hired, there would have been some amusement in bringing their pride low in a contention with them. Such a struggle would have been worth a couple more weeks of existence. But now? Well, why not? I have something very different here from the eternal monotony of a fashionable society life. This one may be as tiresome, but variety will make it endurable for a time. I am already refreshed and enlivened by the idea of attempting to conform myself to new conditions of existence. But have I a right to play with these kindly people, to deceive them, for the gratification of a whim of the moment? Pshaw! It can do no harm to assume the rôle of a Candidate Pigglewitch for a few days. I have acknowledged frankly that this is but a trial, that I mistrusted my own qualifications for the position; what more could be desired? And, besides, if my alter ego, the real Pigglewitch, had come to them, would they have been any better off? They ought to thank me for ridding them of him. The farce is begun; it must be carried out until--until it grows too tiresome, and then the sham Pigglewitch can go the same way that the real Pigglewitch was so near going but lately."

He paused. His thoughts were diverted from their course by the clear, joyous voice of a child in the garden below his windows.

A handsome little fellow, with fair close curls, broke forth from the shrubbery on the farther side of the lawn, and a few steps behind him came running, still faster, a girl hardly more than a child. She tried to catch the boy, he slipped from her but only for a moment. She caught him, lifted him in her arms, kissed him, and then putting him down with "Now catch me, Fritzchen!" she vanished again among the bushes. It was a charming picture. The graceful, girlish figure had glided like a fairy over the lawn, seeming to the spectator rather to fly than to run. With all her tender grace how strong and healthy she looked! Pigglewitch had but one fleeting glimpse of her face, when she lifted the boy and kissed him. It seemed to him wonderfully lovely, but the next instant she had disappeared in the shrubbery, and the boy followed her with a shout.

"Herr Fritzchen! Fräulein! Fräulein Lieschen!"

Old Hildebrandt was standing in the gravel-path that ran through the garden, calling in stentorian tones.

"Yes, yes!" came from the shrubbery, and immediately afterwards the brother and sister appeared, hand in hand, running swiftly. As they crossed the lawn, however, they slackened their pace, so that Pigglewitch could observe them at his ease. They were extremely alike, both handsome, but the maidenly charm of the young girl was indescribably attractive.

"What is it? Why are you calling us, Hildebrandt?" she asked, from a distance. The tone of her voice delighted the ear of the listener at the window. It was rich, clear, and melodious.

"Madame your mother sent me. The Herr Tutor has come. Fritzchen is to go to him in his room immediately."

"The new tutor? Oh, I must see him too!" was Lieschen's reply, and hand in hand with her little brother she ran so swiftly towards the castle that her golden curls were blown backward by the wind.

Pigglewitch turned from the window and looked towards the door in expectation of the visit. That beautiful boy was to be his charge, that charming fairy his pupil in music. Here was another surprise. Would fortune never tire of showering her favours upon him? This time, however, her gifts did not strike him as tiresome. If he had ever hesitated as to whether he should carry out his mad scheme of remaining as tutor in Castle Osternau, all such hesitation was now at an end.

He waited but a few moments before light, tripping steps were heard in the corridor, then came a low, melodious laugh, and then a knock at his door.

"Come in!"

The door opened, and on the threshold there appeared, still hand in hand, the beautiful boy and the golden-haired fairy. The girl looked around the room with an air of arch curiosity, but no sooner did her eyes encounter Pigglewitch's figure than she burst into a laugh, which she vainly tried to suppress. She blushed, her efforts at self-control were evident, but they were of no use. One glance towards the new tutor was enough to provoke her merriment afresh. Thus, still laughing, she advanced into the room with Fritzchen, who looked in shy amazement at the stranger.

The young lady's unbridled mirth aroused in Pigglewitch, who guessed its cause, a very disagreeable sensation. On the day previous, and on this very morning, he had contemplated his image in his hand-glass with much complacency, congratulating himself upon the impression his slouching, bedraggled figure would make upon the aristocratic inmates of Castle Osternau. His expectations had been fulfilled, and were being fulfilled at this moment, but he was not enjoying himself. The prolonged laughter of the young girl vexed him, and as she sank into an arm-chair, and seemed entirely unable to regain her composure, he bit his lip and gave utterance to his annoyance by observing, sharply, "May I inquire the cause of your amiable merriment, Fräulein?"

The question only provoked a fresh burst of laughter, after which the girl controlled herself for a moment sufficiently to reply, "I am so sorry, but indeed I cannot help it when I look at you, you do look so utterly ridiculous!"

"Your pertinent reply bears testimony to taste in dress and to love of truth rather than to good breeding on your part, Fräulein."

Lieschen suddenly grew graver; she looked him fairly in the face for the first time. Hitherto her attention had been given to the queer black coat, with its long, pointed tails. She saw now that its wearer was offended, and she said, kindly and ruefully, "I am sorry to have vexed you, but indeed I could not help it. I mean no harm, but I must laugh when I look at you." Then, suddenly altering her tone, she went on, "But why should I excuse my conduct? Have you not just called my reply pertinent and a proof of good taste? consequently you must know yourself how utterly ridiculous that old-fashioned coat is, how ugly you look in it. If you come to Castle Osternau dressed like a scarecrow, you must not complain if you are laughed at. Hildebrandt told me how odd you looked. He prepared me, and yet I could not help laughing when I saw you. How can you wear such clothes? They do not suit your face at all, and Hildebrandt says you played the piano most delightfully."

She looked him full in the face as she thus lectured him, and shook her curls with a charming air of severity.

"A poor Candidate has no means wherewith to dress himself elegantly," Pigglewitch replied, colouring in spite of himself at the girl's reproof, the truth of which he could not deny, and taking refuge in prevarication.

"I do not believe you," Lieschen replied, adding after a short pause, during which she looked at him with grave reproof in her eyes, "It shows a want of respect for papa and mamma and for all of us. If you knew no better we could not help laughing at you although we should pity you, but your words betray your consciousness of the ridiculous appearance you present, and yet you come dressed thus to Castle Osternau. Papa always dresses for dinner, although he is an old man and the head of the house. And would you teach Fritzchen and me in that coat? Then do not ask us to be serious. Oh, I cannot help laughing when I look at you!"

She leaned back among the cushions of the arm-chair as her laughter burst forth again, while little Fritz, whom awe of the new tutor had hitherto kept quiet, was emboldened by his sister's example, and also laughed aloud.

The situation was by no means an agreeable one for Pigglewitch. If the girl's reproof had only not been so just! He cursed himself for his folly in exchanging clothes with the real Pigglewitch, but the deed was past recall, and he must bear the consequences.

"You ought not to ridicule poverty, Fräulein," he observed, merely for something to say.

Lieschen grew grave again; she was charming when she laughed, but still more attractive when she spoke with her little air of serious disapproval:

"I should be ashamed of laughing at a poor man because he could not dress in the fashion. I never should laugh at you for wearing a threadbare coat, although I cannot understand how a young man who has only himself to provide for should not be able to dress decently. You must have another suit of clothes. What is there in that old travelling-bag?"

She pointed to the bag which Johann had put just inside the open door of the next room. Her question embarrassed Pigglewitch. Had he told the truth he must have replied, "I don't know." He could not possibly say this, and again he had recourse to prevarication.

"Certainly nothing in the fashion," he replied. "Since, however, you lay such stress, Fräulein, upon my dress at table and during study hours, I will take care to provide myself as soon as possible with the best clothes that can be found here in the country. Until I have done so, I will beg madame your mother to dispense with my society at meals and to relieve me of my duties as instructor, for I cannot allow my pupils to laugh at me, even although one of them be a young lady."

Lieschen looked approval, she bethought herself a moment and then said, "I have a plan to propose, Herr Candidate. It would be a great pity that you should stay away from table for several days, for it will take the tailor fully that length of time to provide you with a new suit. Herr Storting will help you. He is just your size, and his clothes will at all events fit you better than that ugly, ridiculous coat."

"Who is Herr Storting?"

"Our second inspector. He is so obliging he will surely help you if I ask him to. He never refuses me anything, and I know he has a whole wardrobe full of suits. Do you consent? Indeed you must, you cannot reject my proposal, and in return I promise you that I will not even smile, either when you come to dinner or when you give me my first lesson on the piano. Herr Storting has just come in from the fields, I saw him ride into the court-yard a moment ago. I will go and ask him, and he will be here in five minutes and will offer to do anything for you. You need not say a word. Run quickly to the inspector's office, Fritzchen, and tell Herr Storting that I wish to speak to him immediately, and that I am waiting for him in the garden in the jessamine arbour. Adieu, Herr Candidate! We have had a little quarrel, but that is no matter, it can all be made up. We shall see each other again at dinner."

She did not wait for an answer: before Pigglewitch could either accept or reject her proposal she had tripped away, with Fritzchen running before her, eager to obey her orders.

"Egon, you have made an infernal fool of yourself," Pigglewitch muttered, when the young girl had left him. He felt really humiliated by the reproof uttered by those charming lips with so much girlish dignity. A mere child had ventured first to laugh at him, then to lecture him, and finally to act as it were as a kind of guardian over him. It was rather hard, especially as he could not but be conscious that Lieschen was right. Egon von Ernau, having taken upon himself Pigglewitch's name and social standing, must submit to be treated accordingly. He could withdraw from such treatment, for he was not as yet bound even by any promise. The idea occurred to him that he had best leave Castle Osternau as quickly as possible, but it was banished almost before it had taken shape. It would be unpardonable weakness, actual cowardice, he said to himself, to end the struggle for existence which he had hardly begun, by a flight from the scene of action. Was it the struggle only that interested him? Was there not an attraction in the image of a charming child, a fairy with golden curls, her dark-blue eyes now dancing with laughter, now frankly reproachful? No, he could not leave Castle Osternau at once, this child must learn to respect him, and if he stayed it must not be to afford the fairy occasion for mirth: he must lay aside the ugly mask which he had purchased of the real Pigglewitch. Perhaps the travelling-bag, as yet unopened, would furnish more respectable apparel than that which its owner had worn when travelling.

Egon had felt no antipathy to exchanging clothes with Pigglewitch, but he was suddenly seized with disgust for everything belonging to the man. He had laughed when he had first looked at himself in the glass, but as he now caught sight of his reflection he was positively ashamed. "She called me a scarecrow," he muttered, "and, by Jove! she was right. No scarecrow could be a more ridiculous object than I am at this minute."

He picked up the travelling-bag: it was locked and there was no key, there was nothing for it but to force the wretched lock with his pocket-knife. When it was opened, the contents proved worse than he had imagined. He found, to be sure, another suit of clothes rather better than Pigglewitch's travelling attire, but it was made after precisely the same fashion, and when Egon put on the coat he thought he looked more like a scarecrow than before. The real Pigglewitch must have purchased his wardrobe in some old-clothes shop, with a special view to a certain bygone fashion. The newer coat being less shabby than the other could be less easily forgiven for its antique cut.

The linen which Egon discovered formed no contrast to the suit, it entirely disgusted him. What should he do until other clothes could be procured? and when could he procure these? Should he use the money in his pocket-book? He had determined not to touch it. It had been a chief part of his wild scheme to live for a while like a poor Candidate, with no other means than his salary as tutor. He had thought it interesting to try for once how life looked to a poor man, who must economize and contrive. Was he at the outset to be false to this scheme? No. Disagreeable as he might find it, he had resolved to taste, as Gottlieb Pigglewitch, the joys and sorrows of a poor Candidate, and he would carry out his intention. What would Gottlieb Pigglewitch do in his place? This was a question difficult to answer. He would hardly have been very sensitive beneath the laugh of the charming fairy. His usual dress had not been odious to him, and he would not probably have wished to exchange it for any other. In vain did Egon attempt to devise some way of procuring decent habiliments without having recourse to his pocketbook. He was pacing his room to and fro, in a very unenviable state of mind, when there was a knock at his door, and a fine-looking young man made his appearance. An involuntary smile played about his mouth at sight of Egon's peculiar attire, as, with a courteous inclination, he said, "Allow me to introduce myself to you, Herr Candidate. My name is Storting. Fräulein Lieschen sends me to you. You know the purpose of my coming, and I need not tell you how happy I shall be to serve you. My wardrobe is well supplied, and I can easily provide for you until you can make other arrangements."

The frank kindliness of the young man's offer embarrassed Egon afresh. He felt an eager desire to accept it, but was reluctant to place himself under such obligations to a stranger. Herr Storting's tall, well-made figure was like his own. Fräulein Lieschen had truly guessed that the young inspector's coat would fit him, but---- "I really do not see how I can accept your exceedingly kind offer, for which I thank you most cordially," he said, with hesitation.

"But indeed you must accept it," Storting replied, with a laugh. "It is Fräulein Lieschen's wish, and, as you will acknowledge before you have passed many days in Castle Osternau, this is a sufficient reason with every one of its inmates, from Herr von Osternau to the gardener's boy, with the exception perhaps of the Herr Lieutenant, for turning the world upside down. It is Fräulein Lieschen's wish, and to this wish you must bend. Pray come with me to my room. We shall soon be able to equip you suitably. To be honest with you, the young lady's wish is perfectly justifiable. You must not take my frankness amiss, I cannot help telling you that it would never do to appear at dinner in that coat. You would expose yourself to the derision of the servants, and compromise your position in the castle."

"I understand, but----"

"Do not hesitate to accept my offer. What harm can it do to wear a coat which I do not need myself, for a couple of days, until you have fitted yourself out?"

"Until I have fitted myself out? But when shall I be able to do this?"

"Ah! yes, I understand you. You are for the moment in some pecuniary embarrassment."

"And supposing this to be the case?"

"That can easily be arranged. We will both ask for leave of absence for to-morrow forenoon. Mirbach Station is only a quarter of a mile from the castle. We can take the first train thence to-morrow, and be in Breslau by eight o'clock. I will take you to my tailor there, who will give you credit upon my recommendation, if you will promise to make quarterly payments on account when you receive your salary. He has a large establishment of ready-made clothing, and is not too dear. For fifty thalers you can easily procure a summer outfit, and I shall be happy to be of service to you in your selection, since you are probably not familiar with the prevailing fashions. We will take with us to Breslau the suit which you have on and that other lying on the chair, and dispose of them to the best advantage, for really they are not suitable to be worn at Castle Osternau. Do you agree?"

"Assuredly, and with a thousand thanks for your courtesy," Egon replied. He might, he thought, accept this proposal, and he quite enjoyed the idea of needing a sponsor to procure him a credit of fifty thalers, and of selling the wardrobe of the worthy Pigglewitch to an old-clothes dealer. Certainly there was variety here for Egon von Ernau.

He immediately followed Herr Storting to his room, where the wardrobes were found almost too well stocked, as the young inspector remarked, for their owner's means. "But better too many clothes than too few," he added. "It is specially needful to be always well dressed in the country, where there is so much temptation to be negligent, and where one's authority among the peasants and labourers depends more than would be believed upon a certain distinction of dress. Wherefore I am grateful to Herr von Osternau for strictly requiring that we should dress for dinner. It confirms us in good habits, as you, Herr Candidate, will admit when you have been a few weeks here."

Egon made no reply to this exordium. He merely expressed his thanks again, as Herr Storting selected from a wardrobe and placed at his disposal a plain but well-made summer suit, and it was with a positive sense of relief that he stripped off Pigglewitch's habiliments. As he did so Storting observed with surprise in his tone, "You are a riddle to me, Herr Candidate. Your linen is of the finest, and of the latest and most expensive fashion, while the remainder of your attire is so inconceivably forlorn. I cannot understand it. But my coat, you see, fits you as if it were made for you. You look a different man without that swallow-tailed abomination."

The pleasure with which Egon now contemplated himself in the looking-glass was an entirely new sensation. Involuntarily he wondered whether Fräulein Lieschen would again liken him to a scarecrow.

CHAPTER V.

[DINNER AND DESSERT].

Herr Von Osternau had no fancy for aristocratic conventionalities. He lived the life of a plain country gentleman, was on the best of terms with his servants and peasants, and treated his inspectors quite as if they belonged to his family, gave them a place at his table, and frequently invited them to join the family circle in the evenings. Nevertheless he observed certain forms. When his inspectors appeared at dinner or at tea in the drawing-room they were expected to do so in simple evening dress. No orders were given to this effect, but they knew what Herr and Frau von Osternau desired, and conformed to their wishes.

As the clock struck three, dinner was announced: the most exact punctuality was observed. The lord of the castle always betook himself half an hour before the time to the large dining-hall, at one end of which the table was set. Here he paced the long room to and fro, and it pleased him to have the members of his family bear him company here. During this half-hour before dinner he liked to talk with his children. He would often pace to and fro with Lieschen hanging on his right arm and Fritz holding his left hand. Frau von Osternau would sit by with her constant knitting, and at times Cousin Albrecht, the Lieutenant, would join the small party.

After dinner coffee was served in the adjoining billiard-room, whither the inspectors followed the family only on holidays or when there was comparatively little to be done out of doors. They usually took their leave, to return to their duties of superintendence, so soon as Herr von Osternau rose from table. The only exception to this rule was the superintendent, Lieutenant von Osternau, who belonged to the family, and who was, besides, not very strict in the discharge of his duties, although he drew with great punctuality when quarter-day came round the very considerable sum which he received as salary. As he himself was wont to say, his office as superintendent of the entire estate did not require him to oversee the smaller details of its management, and he could therefore always find time for a game of billiards with his cousin and Lieschen, as well as for visits to the neighbouring estates, with frequent hunting expeditions. He could do this the more readily since Herr von Osternau himself always exercised a general supervision of all agricultural operations and kindly allowed his young cousin every possible liberty.

On the day upon which the Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch arrived at the castle, Lieutenant Albrecht von Osternau appeared in the dining-hall somewhat before half-past two. The third inspector, Herr von Wangen, was overseeing the harvesters in the Oster meadow and had excused himself from appearing at table, and Herr Storting was busy with the reception of the first instalments of hay. Therefore the superintendent had seen no necessity for exerting himself in the hot sun, but had taken a siesta from twelve to two, and was now awaiting his cousin in the cool, airy dining-hall.

He had not long to wait. Punctual as ever, Herr and Frau von Osternau entered. A minute later, Fritz rushed in, and Lieschen came to take her father's arm and accompany him in his daily promenade. Cousin Albrecht accosted her, but she slipped past him with an arch glance and the half-contemptuous inquiry, "Are you up again, cousin? I hope you enjoyed your nap."

"What makes you think I have been sleeping?" Albrecht asked, crossly, annoyed that Lieschen should betray him. Kind and courteous as was the castle's lord, he could hardly be pleased to learn that his superintendent had spent the precious time in a nap before dinner.

"Can you deny it, cousin?" Lieschen rejoined, with a laugh. "You had better not try that. So loud and sonorous a sound came from your room as I passed your door a while ago, that I stopped for a moment to wonder what it was. It was wonderful music. You say you are not very musical, but no one who has heard you snore will believe you."

"What were you doing at my room door? What did you want of me?"

Lieschen looked round scornfully at her cousin, who was following a few steps behind her father and herself. "You do not suppose, do you, that I was going to pay you a visit? No, Cousin Albrecht, I was on my way to one more worthy of such an honour, our new Candidate. Why do you look surprised? Oh, I understand, you do not know yet that we have a new inmate. You have been sleeping sweetly and snoring most musically while the Candidate was being installed in his rooms, which are just beyond yours. You cannot deny now that you have been asleep."

Albrecht was at a loss for a reply, and was relieved by Herr von Osternau's turning to Lieschen with the inquiry, "Did you pay the Candidate a visit in his room?"

"Of course, papa. I was frightfully curious to see him."

"And how did you like him?" asked her father.