The trader listened attentively to every word spoken, and looked at the
young men with curiosity, but, as Anton remarked, with a degree of
sympathy foreign to his nature. "So," he repeated, mechanically, "he has
lent you twenty ducats; he would lend you more if you asked him; I
know--I know. So you do not want the horse, Mr. Wohlfart? My services to
you, Mr. Wohlfart;" and, so saying, he vanished, and soon the quick trot
of a horse was heard.

"What a fellow that is!" cried the lieutenant, looking out after him.

"He is not generally so easy to get rid of," said Anton, perplexed at
the strange conduct of the Jew. "Perhaps your uniform expedited his
departure."

"I hope it was of some use to you, then. Good-by till the evening," said
the lieutenant, taking his leave.

That afternoon the light knocking was heard again, and Tinkeles
reappeared. He looked cautiously around the room, and approached Anton.
"Allow me to ask," said he, with a confidential wink, "is it really true
that you lent him twenty ducats, and would lend him more if he wished?"

Anton assented to both these propositions. "And now," said he, "tell me
plainly what is running in your head, for I see you have something to
disclose."

Tinkeles made a sly face, and winked harder. "Even though he be your
good friend, beware of lending him money. If you know what you are
about, you will lend him no more money."

"And why not?" inquired Anton. "Your good advice is useless, unless I
know on what it is founded."

"And if I tell you what I know, will you intercede for me with Mr.
Schroeter, so that he may not think about the wagons when he sees me in
his counting-house?"

"I will tell him that you have behaved well in other respects. It will
be for him to decide what he will do."

"You will intercede for me," said Tinkeles; "that's enough. Things are
going ill with Von Rothsattel, the father of this young man--very ill.
Misfortune's black hand is raised over him. He is a lost man. There is
no saving him."

"How do you know this?" cried Anton, horrified. "But it is impossible,"
he added, more calmly; "it is a lie, a mere idle rumor."

"Believe my words," said the Jew, impressively. "His father is in the
hands of one who walks about in secret, like the angel of destruction.
He goes and lays his noose around the necks of the men he has singled
out without any one seeing him. He tightens the noose, and they fall
around like ninepins. Why should you lend y