before him, he would give you any mortgage you
liked for it; he is half-witted."

"I see that you do not approve this plan," said the baron, again
drifting hopelessly.

Before Itzig replied, he stood for a long time reflecting, and
restlessly looking away from the baron into every corner of the room. At
last he said, in a more self-possessed tone, "The baron is right. It
will be best, after all, that you and Ehrenthal should go together to
Bernhard's sick-bed, and there finally settle your affairs." Again he
was silent, and his face grew red with stormy thoughts. "Will the baron
be graciously pleased to leave me to fix the day and the hour when he
can best speak to Bernhard Ehrenthal? As soon as you enter the office, I
will go up and tell him that you are there. Meanwhile you will have the
goodness to wait in the office, even if I should be half an hour away.
You will wait, whatever Ehrenthal may say. And when I take you up
stairs, all will be right, for Bernhard can do what he likes with his
father."

"I shall wait till I hear from you," decided the baron, distressed at
the thought of the painful day.

Itzig then took his leave, and rushed in frantic excitement to his lair
in the house of Pinkus. Arrived there, he ran wildly up and down,
clenching his fist at the thought of Bernhard. He opened his old desk,
and took out of a secret drawer two keys, which he laid on the table,
and stood looking at them steadfastly and long. At length he pushed them
into his pocket, and ran down to the caravanserai. There, cowering in a
corner of the gallery, he found his sagacious friend Mr. Hippus, whose
aspect had certainly not improved during the last few days. He was now
sitting squeezed into a corner where the sunlight fell, and was reading
a dirty romance. When Veitel hurriedly entered, he only buried his head
deeper in his book, for which he appeared to care far more than for the
young man of business before him.

"Shut up your book, and listen to me," cried Itzig, impatiently.
"Rothsattel will get his notes of hand back from Ehrenthal; he will give
in the mortgage, and I shall have to pay him the remaining eight
thousand dollars."

"Only think--only think," replied the old man, wagging his ugly head,
"what things one lives to see! If Ehrenthal gives his money away to a
vagabond who has broken his word, it will be time for us all to mend our
ways and turn honest. Before, however, we speak further, you may just
bring me up