tily shaken it, wished
him good-night.

The following morning, the clerks being all assembled earlier than
usual, Fink made his appearance last, and said, in a loud voice, "My
lords and gentlemen of the export and home-trade, I yesterday behaved to
Mr. Wohlfart in a manner that I now sincerely regret. I have already
apologized to him, and I repeat that apology in your presence; and beg
to say that our friend Wohlfart has behaved admirably throughout, and
that I rejoice to have him for a colleague." At this the clerks smiled,
Anton shook hands with Fink, Jordan with both of them, and the affair
was settled.

But it had its results. It raised Anton's position in the opinion of his
brother officials, and entirely changed his relation to Fink, who, a few
days after, as they were running up stairs, stopped and invited him into
his own apartment, that they might smoke a friendly cigar.

It was the first time that Anton had crossed the threshold of the
volunteer, and he stood amazed at the aspect of his room. Handsome
furniture all in confusion, a carpet soft as moss, on whose gorgeous
flowers cigar-ashes were recklessly strewed. On one side a great press
full of guns, rifles, and other weapons, with a foreign saddle and heavy
silver spurs hanging across it; on the other, a large book-case,
handsomely carved, and full of well-bound books, and above, the
outspread wings of some mighty bird.

"What a number of books you have!" cried Anton, in delight.

"Memorials of a world in which I no longer live."

"And those wings--are they a part of those memorials?"

"Yes, they are the wings of a condor. I am proud of them, as you see,"
answered Fink, offering Anton a packet of cigars, and propelling a great
arm-chair toward him with his foot. "And now let us have a chat. Are you
knowing in horses?"

"No," said Anton.

"Are you a sportsman?"

"Not that either."

"Are you musical?"

"Very slightly so," said Anton.

"Why, what specialities have you, then, in Heaven's name?"

"Few in your sense of the word," answered Anton, indignantly. "I can
love those who please me, and can, I believe, be a true friend; I can
also resent insolence."

"Very well," said Fink, "I am quite aware of that. I know there is
plenty of spirit in you. Now let me hear what fate has hurled you into
this dreary tread-mill, where all must at last go dusty and resigned,
like Liebold, or, at best, punctual and precise, like Jordan."

"It was a kind f