back word this
evening you shall have a ducat for yourself."

Veitel felt a glow of delight, but replied calmly, "I know none of
Councilor Horn's clerks, and must have some time to become acquainted
with them."

He ordered the bottle of wine, and ran off into the street like a dog in
scent of game.

Meanwhile Ehrenthal, his hat still on, his hands behind his back, walked
up and down, nodding his head, and looking in the twilight like an ugly
ghost who once has had his head cut off and can not now keep it steadily
on.

As Veitel went on his way, his mind kept working much as follows: "What
can be in the wind? It must be an important affair, and I am to know
nothing about it! I am to send Pinkus. Pinkus was with Ehrenthal a few
days ago, and the next morning he went to Baron Rothsattel's place in
the country; so it must have something to do with the baron. And now, as
to these letters. If I could catch the clerk who takes them to the post,
and contrive to read the directions, I should save money. But how manage
this? Well, I must find out some way or other." And, accordingly, Veitel
posted himself at the door, and soon saw a young man rush out with a
packet of letters in his hand. He followed him, and, turning sharply
round a corner, contrived to meet him. Touching his hat, "You are from
Councilor Horn's office?"

"Yes," said the clerk, in a hurry to get on.

"I am from the country, and have been waiting for three days for an
important letter from the councilor; perhaps you may have one for me."

"What is your name?" said the clerk, looking at him mistrustfully.

"Bernhard Madgeburg, of Ostrau," said Veitel; "but the letter may be
addressed to my uncle."

"There is no letter for you," replied the clerk, hurriedly glancing at
the directions.

Do what he would, Veitel's eyes could not follow this rapid shuffling,
so he seized the packet, and while the enraged official, catching hold
of him, exclaimed, "What are you about, man! how dare you?" he devoured
the directions, gave back the letters, and touching his hat, coolly
said, "Nothing for me; do not lose the post; I am going to the
councilor," turned on his heel and made his escape.

Spite of this bold stroke, he could only remember two or three of the
addresses. "Perhaps I have made my money," thought he; "and if not,
there's no time lost." So he went back, and, creeping to the office
door, stood and listened. The worthy Pinkus was speaking, but very low,
a