window, and whispered "Tussmann! Tussmann! Clerk of the Privy
Chancery--bethink yourself, sir! Consider what you're about. Don't let
your heart be troubled. Be not deceived by Satan, good soul."
"You seem to be put out by what you have seen, Mr. Tussmann," the
stranger said. "I only wanted to see my sweetheart--my wife, that is to
be. You must have seen something else, apparently."
"Please, please," Tussmann said in a whimper, "I should be so much
obliged to you if you would be good enough to address me by my little
title. I am Clerk of the Privy Chancery, and truly, at this moment, a
greatly perturbed Clerk of the Privy Chancery--in fact, one almost out
of his senses. I beg you, with all due respect, my very dear sir
(though I regret that I am unable to style you by your proper title, as
I have not the honour to be in the least acquainted with you, having
never met you before--however, I shall address you as 'Herr Geheimer
Rath'--'Mr. Privy Councillor'--there are such an extraordinary number
of gentlemen here in Berlin bearing that title that one can scarcely be
in error in applying it)--I beg you, therefore, Herr Geheimer Rath, to
be so very kind as not to keep me longer in ignorance as to whom the
lady, your future wife, may be, whom you expected to see here at this
hour of the night."
"You're a curious fellow, you and your 'titles,'" the stranger said,
raising his voice. "If a man who knows a number of secrets and
mysteries, and can give good counsel too, is one of your 'privy' or
'secret' councillors, I think _I_ may so style myself. I am surprised
that a gentleman who is so well versed in ancient writings and curious
manuscripts as you are, dear Mr. Tussmann, Clerk of the Privy Chancery,
should not know that when an expert--an _expert_, observe!--knocks at
the door of this Tower here--or even on the wall of it, on the night of
the autumnal equinox, there will appear to him, up at yonder window,
the girl who is to be the happiest and luckiest sweetheart in Berlin
till the spring equinox comes round."
"Mr. Privy Councillor," Tussmann cried, as if in a sudden inspiration,
and with joyful rapture--"Most respected Mr. Privy Councillor! is that
really the case?"
"It is," said the stranger. "But what's the good of our standing in the
street here any longer? It is past your bed time. Let us go to the
new wine-shop in Alexander Street; just that you may hear a little
more about this young lady, and recover your
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