is own place and came to Anton's stool. Mr.
Baumann often walked across, just to clap him on the back, and then
cheerfully returned to his own corner; Mr. Specht kept knocking away at
the railings which divided him from Anton, and showered down questions
upon him. Mr. Liebold left the blotting-paper several moments on the
last page of the great ledger, and came over for a chat. Even Mr. Purzel
moved, with the sacred chalk in his hand, out of his partition; and,
finally, Mr. Pix came into the room to confide to Anton that, for some
months back, he had played no _solo partie_, and that Specht, meanwhile,
had fallen into a state closely resembling insanity.

Later in the evening Anton entered the principal's apartments. Sabine
stood before him. Her mouth smiled, but her eyes were moist as she bent
down over the hand that had saved her brother's life.

"Lady!" cried Anton, shocked, and drew his hand away.

"I thank you, oh! I thank you, Wohlfart," cried Sabine, holding his
hands in both hers. And so she stood silent, transfigured by an emotion
she knew not how to repress. While Anton contemplated the fair girl,
who, with blushing cheeks, looked so gratefully at him, he realized the
change that Polish sword-cut had made in his position. The partition
wall had fallen which, till now, had divided the clerk from the
principal's family. And he also felt his heart swelling with honest
pride the while, that he was not all unworthy of a woman's trust.

He now told her, in reply to her questions, the particulars of their
struggle for the wagons, and the other incidents of that adventurous
time. Sabine hung upon his words; and when her eyes met the full, clear
light of his, they involuntarily drooped beneath it. She had never
before remarked how singularly handsome he was. Now it burst upon her. A
manly, open face, curling chestnut hair, beautiful dark blue eyes, a
mouth that told of energy and decision, and a color that went and came
with every change of feeling. He seemed to be, at the same time, a
stranger, and yet a dear and trusted friend.

The cousin entered next, the embroidered curtains having caused an
excitement in her mind, which now displayed itself in a silk gown and
new cap. Her greetings were loud and fluent; and when she remarked that
Mr. Wohlfart's whiskers were very becoming to him, Sabine looked assent.

"There you have the hero of the counting-house," cried the merchant,
joining them. "Now show that you know