at he didn't have. He
was afraid that the colonel would soon demand the immediate payment of
his load of debts, and that, if unable to comply with the order,
resignation from the army was the only possible outcome. And what
should he do then, without a penny, without any useful knowledge, and
with many luxurious habits? Something must be done, he made up his
mind, and he was going to employ the next day, a Sunday, to consider
once more the various possibilities of raising a large sum, no matter
how, to discharge all these liabilities, most of them small in
themselves, but in their totality representing quite a fortune.

Solaced by the hope that after all some mild hand would open and drop
into his lap a small mountain of gold, he fell asleep; the book
slipped from his hands, and the lamp on the night table went out after
midnight, since Borgert had forgotten to blow it out. He slept
restlessly, and bad dreams pursued him. His load of debt developed
into a nightmare that was pressing on his chest and threatening to
crush out his life.

When he awoke in the morning it was past ten. Borgert began to rage.
Almost half the day was gone now, and yet he had meant to do so much.
Had this ass of a servant again forgotten to wake him? With that his
head ached, and he felt nervous and out of sorts. Throwing his
dressing-gown loosely about him he went into his servant's room and
found Roese laboriously penning a letter. When his master entered the
poor fellow shot out of the seat and stood bolt upright.

"Why didn't you wake me, you beast?" he thundered at him.

"I wakened the Herr First Lieutenant at seven o'clock, but the Herr
First Lieutenant wanted to continue sleeping and said I need not come
back any more to annoy him."

"That's a lie, you swine; I will teach you to do as you are told." And
he seized a leather belt lying on the fellow's bed, and with it struck
Roese violently, then kicking him, and letting the belt play around his
face and neck until broad livid marks began to show.

Roese preserved his military attitude, and stood his punishment without
in the least resisting. But that was a further cause of anger to
Borgert, and the latter dropped the belt, and with his fist struck the
man several hard blows in the chest. Then he took the man's letter,
half finished as it was, crumpled it up in his hand, and threw it into
the coal-scuttle.

"Step upstairs lively and tell Herr First Lieutenant Leimann that I
want to