ive me," continued Fink, laughing, "and allow something to an old
friend."

"You are mistaken," replied Anton, earnestly, "if you believe that any
thing of passion has brought me here. I have become connected with the
baron's family through a series of accidents." Fink smiled. "I confess
that these would not have affected me had I not been susceptible of
certain influences. But I may venture to say that I am accidentally in
my present responsible situation. At a time when the baron was very
painfully circumstanced, I was fixed upon by his family as one who at
all events had the will to be of use to them. They expressed a wish to
engage my services for a time. When I accepted their proposal, I did so
after an inward conflict that I have no right to disclose to you."

"All that is very good," replied Fink; "but when the merchant buys a gun
and a sword, he must at least know why he makes those purchases; and
therefore forgive me the point-blank question, What do you mean to do
here?"

"To remain as long as I feel myself essential, and then to look out a
place in a merchant's office," said Anton.

"At our old principal's?" asked Fink, hastily.

"There or elsewhere."

"The deuce!" cried Fink. "That does not seem a very direct course, nor
an open confession either; but one must not ask too much from you in the
first hour of meeting. I will be more unreserved and candid to you. I
have worked myself free over there; and thank you for your letter, and
the advice your wisdom gave. I did as you suggested, made use of the
newspapers to explode my Western Land Association. Of course, I flew
with it into the air. I bought half a dozen pens with a thousand
dollars, and had the New York gazettes and others continually filled
with the most appalling reports of the good for nothingness of the
company. I had myself and my partners cursed in every possible key. This
made a sensation. Brother Jonathan's attention was caught; all our
rivals fell upon us at once. I had the pleasure of seeing myself and my
associates portrayed in a dozen newspapers as bloodthirsty swindlers and
scoundrels--all for my good money too. It was a wild game. In a month
the Western Land Company was so down that no dog would have taken a
crust of bread from it. Then came my co-directors and offered to buy me
out, that they might be rid of me. You may fancy how glad I was. For the
rest, I bought my freedom dear, and have left the reputation behind me
of being th