d Biberli eagerly, "to-night is the very time, ere Countess
Cordula teaches you to forget what troubles you, to win them back. The
gold for the first stake is at your disposal."

"From the Duke of Pomerania, you think?" asked Heinz; then, in a quick,
resolute tone, added: "No! Often as the duke has offered me his purse, I
never borrow from my peers when the prospect of repayment looks so
uncertain."

"Gently, my lord," returned Biberli, slapping his belt importantly. "Here
is what you need for the stake as your own property. No miracles have
been wrought for us, only I forgot But look! There are the black clouds
rolling northward over the castle. That was a frightful storm! But a
spendthrift doesn't keep house long-and the thunder has not yet followed
that last flash of lightning. There is plenty of uproar without it. It's
hard work to hear one's self speak amid all the ringing, trumpeting,
yelling, and shrieking. It seems as if they expected to put out the fire
with noise. The fathers of the city can attend to that. It doesn't appear
to disturb the duke and his guests at their dice; and here, my lord, are
fifty florins which, I think, will do for the beginning."

Biberli handed the knight a little bag containing this sum, and when
Heinz asked in perplexity where he obtained it, the ex-schoolmaster
answered gaily: "They came just in the nick of time. I received them from
Suss, the jockey, while you were out riding this afternoon."

"For the black?" Heinz enquired.

"Certainly, my lord. It's a pity about the splendid stallion. But, as you
know, he has the staggers, and when I struck him on the coronet he stood
as if rooted to the earth, and the equerry, who was there, said that the
disease was proved. So the Jew silently submitted, let the horse be led
away, and paid back what we gave him. Fifty heavy florins! More than
enough for a beginning. If I may advise you, count on the two and the
five when fixed numbers are to be thrown or hit. Why? Because you must
turn your ill luck in love to advantage: and those from whom it comes are
the two beautiful Ortlieb Es, as Nuremberg folk call the ladies Els and
Eva. That makes the two. But E is the fifth letter in the alphabet, so I
should choose the five. If Biberli did not put things together
shrewdly--"

"He would be as oversharp as he has often been already," Heinz
interrupted, but he patted Biberli's wet arm as he spoke, and added
kindly "Yet every day proves that my Bi