baron's
embarrassments being no longer a secret. The young man showed all the
sympathy conventional in such a case. He was very sorry, indeed, to hear
that there was so large a mortgage upon the recently-purchased property.
"Whom did you send to the auction?" asked he.

"Hirsch Ehrenthal," was the reply.

George Werner waxed eloquent. "I fear," cried he, "that that fellow has
played you false. I know the usurer well: years ago we lost a large sum
by his villainy. My father had cut down a wood in the next province, and
sold it to a timber-merchant. Ehrenthal made a cheating bargain with
this man, got the timber from him at a nominal price, while the other
fellow ran off to America. The two rogues shared my father's money."

The baron's face grew livid; he rose, said not another word about his
concerns, and slunk out of his neighbor's house like a felon.

From that day he brooded darkly in his arm-chair, was harsh to his wife,
unapproachable by his daughter. The two poor women suffered
inexpressibly.

One ray of hope still remained to him--Bernhard's influence with his
father. But he would not take the hand unselfishly offered him. He did
not send for Anton, but for another, of whom the idea was repulsive to
him, yet whose grotesque presence seemed to cheer him whenever they met.
Once more, at the last hour, a gracious destiny left his choice free.
But alas! he was himself free no longer. It was the curse of an evil
deed that now confused his judgment.

Again Itzig stood before him, and the baron, looking askance at the bent
figure, said, "Young Ehrenthal has offered to make up my difference with
his father."

Veitel leaped up suddenly as if he had been shot. "Bernhard!" said he.

"That is his name, I dare say; he is an invalid."

"He will die," replied Veitel.

"When?" asked the baron, occupied with his own thoughts; but, recovering
himself, he added, "What is the matter with him?"

"It is here," said Itzig, laying his hand on his chest; "it labors like
a pair of bellows: when a hole is once torn, the breath ceases."

The baron put on an expression of sympathy, but, in reality, his only
thought was that he had no time to lose. "The invalid," said he, "has
sufficient influence over his father to give me hopes of Ehrenthal's
consent to my wishes."

"What does Bernhard know of business? He is a fool," cried Veitel,
unable to conceal his annoyance. "If you were to put an old parchment
covered with manuscript