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

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

"I don't know," curtly replied Anton, continuing to pace up and down.
Schmeie relapsed into exhaustion and silence. At length he looked up
again and said, "At least fifty?"

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

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

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

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

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

But Rosalie was too much accustomed to this admiration to heed it, and
went on trying to fasten a bracelet on her round arm. "It was really too
bad of Itzig to bring me turquoises; he ought to have known that they
are out of fashion."

"They are very handsomely set," said her mother, soothingly. "The gold
is massive, and the pattern quite new."

"And where is Itzig? To-day, at least, he ought to come early; the
relatives will all be here before the bridegroom," sai