ather's pent-up anger
found a vent. He interrupted Anton by sharply saying, "I forbid you to
use that familiar appellation in speaking of my son. Living or dead, he
is still Herr von Rothsattel as far as you are concerned." Anton replied
with great self-command, "Herr Eugene von Rothsattel had contracted
debts to the amount of about four thousand dollars."

"That is impossible!" broke in the baron.

"The accredited copies of notes of hand and bills of exchange which
Councilor Horn has procured, place the matter beyond doubt. With regard
to the largest debt, one of nineteen hundred dollars, the certainty is
the more complete, as the lender, the father of the bailiff Sturm,
happens to be a man of peculiar uprightness. A letter to me from the
departed expressly acknowledges this obligation."

"Then you knew of this debt," cried the baron, with increasing anger,
"and you have kept it back from me! Is this your much-vaunted fidelity?"

It was in vain that Anton sought to explain the circumstances of the
case. The baron had lost all self-control. "I have long ago found out,"
said he, "how self-willed your whole line of conduct is. You take
advantage of my situation to get the disposition of all my means; you
make debts, you allow debts to be made, you draw money, you charge it to
my account, just as you see fit."

"Say no more, baron," cried Anton. "It is only compassion for your
helplessness which at this moment prevents me from answering you as you
deserve. How great that compassion is, you may infer from the fact that
I will endeavor to forget your words, and still ask you for your
decision: will you or will you not acknowledge your late son's debts,
and give legal security to the porter Sturm, or to his son, your
bailiff?"

"I will do nothing," cried the baron, beside himself, "that you require
of me in so peremptory and pretentious a tone."

"Then it is useless to speak to you any longer. I implore you, baron, to
reconsider the affair before you pronounce your final decision. I shall
have the honor of receiving your ultimatum this evening, and I hope that
ere then your sense of honor will have triumphed over a mood to which I
should not wish a second time to expose myself."

With these words he left, and heard the poor baron upsetting chairs and
tables in his wrath. Scarcely had he reached his room when the
confidential servant appeared, and asked for the deeds and
account-books, which had hitherto been kept in