Debit and Credit Part 89

Anton replied, "I am authorized to treat with you as to the sum; but I would observe that the matter is a pressing one. I therefore entreat you to inform me whether you are prepared to deliver the doc.u.ments to the Baron Rothsattel, and to be employed in our interest as regards the purchase of the mortgages."

"I will make inquiries, and consider whether I can serve you," coldly replied Veitel.

Anton rejoined as coldly, "How much time do you require to make up your mind?"

"Three days," said the agent.

"I can only give you four-and-twenty hours," said Anton, positively.

"If, in that time, you have not informed me of your intention, I shall, on the baron's behalf, take every possible step to procure the papers, or to convince myself of their destruction, and I shall use my present knowledge respecting their abstraction and hiding-place to discover the perpetrator of the felony." Then taking out his watch, he said, "To-morrow, at the same hour, I shall call for your reply."

And so the important interview ended. As the door closed behind Anton, Itzig's resolve was taken. "Only one week," muttered he, "to my betrothal to Rosalie! The following day I shall find the notes of hand in a corner of Ehrenthal's office. Then Rothsattel and his friends must come to an arrangement upon my own terms. By the threat of a legal investigation, and of making the baron's misconduct public, I can force this Wohlfart to any thing I like. Only a week! If I hold out so long, the game is mine."

When Anton returned at the expiration of the four-and-twenty hours, he found the office closed. He called again in the evening: no one at home.

The following morning the shrewd youth appeared at the door, and informed him that Mr. Itzig was gone on a journey, that he might perhaps return that very hour, but might, on the other hand, be absent for some days.

Anton knew, from his fluency, that the youth spoke according to orders given.

He next went to an official, who had the reputation of being one of the cleverest detectives in the town--cautiously disclosed the essentials respecting the stolen casket--expressed his suspicions of the robbery having been effected by Hippus, under Itzig's directions--and revealed the incomplete warnings of the worthy Tinkeles. The detective listened with attention, and at length said, "Out of all the inadequate information that you have given, the name of Hippus interests me most.

He is a very dangerous character, and hitherto I have not exactly known how to get at him. On account of swindling and petty rascalities, he has often been punished, and the police have their eye upon him. I will do all I can for you, so far as he goes. I will have him and his effects searched this very day. I tell you beforehand we shall find nothing. I am further prepared to repeat this search in the course of a few days, at the risk of lowering my character in the eyes of the brave Hippus; for our trick of making thieves feel safe by means of superficially searching them may indeed answer with novices, but would never avail with this old hand. It is certain that we shall find nothing at our second search."

"Of what use can the measure be to me, then?" asked Anton, in a tone of resignation.

"Of more than you fancy. It may further your game with the agent Itzig; for, generally speaking, the effect of a search is to make the parties uncomfortable. And though I am not quite sure how Hippus will take it, I am inclined to believe it will perplex him. That may help you on. I will see, too, that the first search be clumsily and ostentatiously made.

Fortunately, he has now a settled abode again; for some time he has had a respite from us, and has grown bold. I hear, too, that he is getting old and feeble. All this may help you to catch Itzig one way or other."

This decision come to, Anton had to retire.

CHAPTER XLI.

It was a dark November evening; a fog lay heavily on the town, filling the old streets and squares, and forcing its way into the houses. It gathered round the street-lanterns, which looked like dull red b.a.l.l.s, and gave no light a yard off. It hung over the river, rolled along the black stream, under the bridge, up the steps, and clung to the wooden pillars of the gallery. At times there would be a rift in its ma.s.ses, through which the inky stream below became visible, flowing like the river of death along the dwellings of men.

The streets were empty. Here and there, close to a light, a form would be seen to emerge, and then suddenly to disappear. One of these shadows was a short man with a stoop, who unsteadily struggled onward as fast as he could. He tottered into the court where Itzig's office was, and looked up at the agent's windows. The curtains were drawn, but there was a glimmer of light to be seen through them. The little man tried to stand firm, stared at the light, clenched his fists at it, and then going up the steps, rang once, twice, thrice. At length a m.u.f.fled footstep was heard, the door was opened, and the little man, entering, ran through the ante-room, which Itzig shut behind him. Itzig looked still paler than his wont, and his eyes glanced unsteadily at his untimely guest. Hippus had never been a model of manly beauty, but to-day he was positively uncanny. His features were sunken, a mixture of fear and insolence sat on his ugly face, and his eyes looked maliciously over his spectacles at his former scholar. Evidently he had been drunk; but some feverish terror had seized him, and for a moment neutralized the effects of the brandy.

"They are on me," he cried, grasping recklessly at empty air; "they are on the look-out for me!"

"Who would look out for you?" asked Itzig. But he knew only too well.

"The police, you villain!" shrieked the old man. "It is on your account that I am in trouble. I dare not go home; you must hide me."

"We are not come to that yet," returned Veitel, with all the composure he could. "How do you know that the police are at your heels?"

"The children in the street are talking of it," cried Hippus. "I heard it in the street when I was going to creep back to my hole. It was a mere chance that they did not find me in my room. They are in my house, standing on the steps, waiting till I come. You must hide me! I must have money! I will cross the border. I can't stay here any longer; you must send me off."

"Send you off!" repeated Itzig, gloomily. "Where to, pray?"

"Any where--where the police can not reach me--over the frontier--to America."

"And suppose I don't choose?" said Itzig, in a tone of enmity.

"You will choose, simpleton. Are you green enough not to know what I shall do if you don't get me out of this sc.r.a.pe, you varlet? They'll have quick ears at the criminal courts for what I have to tell of you."

"You would not be so wicked as to betray an old friend," said Veitel, in a tone that he vainly tried to make pathetic. "Do look at things more calmly. What danger is there, even if they do arrest you? Who can prove any thing? For want of proof they will have to let you off. You know the law as well as the judges do."

"Indeed!" screamed the old man, spitefully. "You think I shall go to prison for the sake of a fellow like you? that I shall sit eating bread and water, while you are feeding upon the fat of the land, and laughing at the old a.s.s Hippus? I will not go to prison; I will be off; and, till I can get off, you must hide me."

"You can't remain here," darkly replied Veitel. "There is no safety here for you or me. Jacob would betray you; the people in the house would find out that you were here."

"Where best to take me is your look-out," said the man; "but I demand your help, or--"

"Hold your jaw!" said Veitel, "and listen to me. If I were disposed to give you money, and get you off by railroad to Hamburg, and over the sea, I could not do so immediately nor without aid. You must be taken by night a few miles hence to some small station on the line. I dare not hire a conveyance--that might betray you; and, as you are, you can not walk. I must look out for some opportunity of getting you off safely.

Meanwhile, I must get you to some place that the police do not know you to frequent, for I fear they will look for you here. If you don't go home, they will probably come here this very night. I must go and inquire for a conveyance and a safe shelter. Meanwhile, stay in the back room till I return."

He opened the door, and Mr. Hippus slipped in like a frightened bat. But as Veitel was about to shut the door upon him, the old creature pushed between it and the wall, crying in high dudgeon, "I will not remain in the dark like a rat; you must leave me a light. I will have a light, you devil!"

"They will see from below that there is a light in the room, and that will betray us."

"I will not sit in the dark!" screamed the old man once more.

Muttering a curse, Veitel took up the lamp and carried it into the inner room. Then he closed the door and hurried into the street. Very cautiously he approached the dwelling of Lobel Pinkus. There all was still; and, looking into the bar, he discerned Pinkus sitting among his guests in all the security of a good conscience. He crept up the steps to his former abode, then took some rusty keys from a hidden corner, carefully examined the sleeping-room, and saw with satisfaction that it was both dark and empty. He hurried on to the gallery, where he remained for a moment looking at the rolling cloud-ma.s.ses and the dusky stream.

Every thing was favorable, but there was not an instant to be lost, for a capricious breeze sometimes blew over the water, and the fog seemed to be breaking up. In a short time the wind would clearly reveal the stream, the outlines of the houses, and the lanterns, which now looked like red specks at the corners of the streets.

Itzig hurried on next to the end of the gallery, and turned the key in a door which concealed the way down the steps. The door creaked as it opened. Itzig went down to the river and tried to ascertain its depth.

The platform which ran along the base of the houses, and which was generally visible the whole year through, was covered; but a few strides through the water would lead from these steps to those of the neighboring house. Veitel stared down into the river, and put his foot into it to see how deep one would have to wade before reaching those steps. So occupied was he with the escape of the old man, that he did not heed, did not even feel the cold. The water rose to his knee. He looked round once more. All was darkness, mist, silence, like that of the grave, but for the wail of the water and the rising wind.

Meanwhile Hippus tried to make himself comfortable. After having sent all manner of curses after Veitel, he gave his troubled mind to the investigation of the room. He went to a low cupboard, turned the key, and looked for some fluid that might restore his sinking strength and refresh his parched gums. He found a bottle of rum, poured its contents into a gla.s.s, and gulped it down as fast as the fiery nature of the poison allowed. A cold sweat immediately broke out on his brow, and, drawing a remnant of a handkerchief from his pocket, he hurriedly wiped his face, and reeled up and down the room, talking to himself.

"He is a fool! a rascally, cowardly hare! a miserable chafferer! If I wanted to sell him this old handkerchief, he could not help buying; it is his nature; he is a despicable creature. And he tries to defy me, and put me in prison; and he is to sit, forsooth, on this sofa, with the rum-bottle at his side--the scoundrel!" Then taking up the empty bottle, he dashed it against the woodwork of the sofa and broke it to pieces.

"Who was he?" he went on, in increasing rage; "a chaffering jack-pudding. I have made him what he is, the noodle. If I whistle, he dances; he is only the decoy, I am the bird-catcher." Here Hippus tried to whistle a tune, and to execute a few steps. Again the cold sweat rained from his brow, and, taking out his handkerchief, he dried his face, and carefully replaced the rag in his pocket. "He does not return," he suddenly cried; "he leaves me here, and they will find me."

Then running to the door and violently shaking it, "The villain has locked me in--a Jew has locked me in!" shrieked the miserable creature, wringing his hands. "I am to die of hunger and thirst in this prison.

Oh, he has used me ill--used his benefactor basely; he is an ungrateful wretch, an unnatural son!" At this he began to sob: "I have nursed him when he was sick, I have taught him knowing tricks, I have made a man of him, and this is how he rewards his old friend." The lawyer wept aloud. Suddenly stopping before the mirror, he started at his own reflection. His eyes flashed still more angrily as, pus.h.i.+ng his spectacles more firmly on, he examined the frame. He knew that mirror.

Had chance brought one of the articles belonging to his better days into Pinkus's secret stores, and thence to Veitel's room, or did some resemblance mislead the drunkard? At all events, the thoughts it awoke of his former position filled him with rage. "It is my mirror," he screamed--"my own mirror that the rascal has here;" and, rus.h.i.+ng wildly about the room, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up a chair, and struck the mirror with it.

The gla.s.s soon rattled down in a hundred pieces, but he went on belaboring the frame and screaming like a madman. "It hung in my house; the rogue has stolen my mirror--he has stolen my prosperity." He poured forth hideous imprecations against the supposed thief.

At that moment Veitel rushed in, having heard the noise from the ante-room, and guessing its cause. As soon as the lawyer saw him, he ran at him with the raised chair, crying out, "You have brought me to want, and you shall pay for it," aimed a blow at Itzig's head. But the latter pushed the chair away, and seized hold of the old man with all his strength. Hippus struggled and cursed in vain.

Veitel forced him down into a corner of the sofa, and whispered, as he held him down, "If you do not keep quiet, old man, it's all over with you."

When the drunkard saw in Itzig's eyes, which were fixed upon his, that he had the worst to apprehend from his anger, the paroxysm left him, he sank down powerless, and muttered in a low voice, while shuddering all over, "He will kill me."

"Not if you are quiet, you drunken fool; what devil drove you to destroy my room?"

"He will kill me," mumbled the old man, "because I have found my mirror."

"You are mad," cried Veitel, shaking him. "Collect your senses; you can't stay here. You must come away; I have a hiding-place for you."