That this conduct was displeasing to the woman who had brought so much wealth into the family may readily be imagined, and being possessed of sufficient spirit to resent the affronts put upon her, she did not tamely submit to be thus ignored by the supercilious relatives of her husband, but determined to be revenged upon them in a manner which she knew would be complete and satisfactory to herself.

Among her numerous friends was the widow of a captain of hussars, who had been in the same regiment with Bucholz, but who had died a short time before, leaving his sorrow-stricken wife without sufficient income for her support, and with the care of an only son who had been born to them in their brief married life. To this lady William's aunt immediately offered her house as a home, and promised to take care of her child's education and provide for its future. This offer was gratefully accepted by the bereaved and impecunious widow, who, with her child, soon became domiciled beneath the roof of the uncle and the socially abused aunt.

As the boy grew into years he displayed so many traits of a n.o.ble, manly character and of a fond and loving disposition, that the hearts of the aged couple instinctively warmed towards him with an abiding affection, and the mother dying soon after, he was formally adopted by them.

The uncle continued, however, to supply the wants of his prodigal and degenerate nephew, but they increased so enormously that he was forced to remonstrate with the young man upon the recklessness of his conduct. His remonstrances were met with a spirit of impertinence and defiance that angered the old gentleman to such an extent that he declined at once to pay any further debts of his nephew's contracting, and limited his allowance to a sum which, while sufficiently large to provide for his actual needs, afforded no opportunities for lavish outlays or indiscreet dissipations.

This action excited the ire of William and his family, who did not hesitate to ascribe it to the promptings of the wife, whom they had so consistently ignored, and whose feelings they had so frequently outraged.

The relations between the brothers ceased to be friendly, and an estrangement took place which was increased by the family of Bucholz, who spoke every where in the most disrespectful terms of the wife of the brother.

While matters were in this position the uncle was suddenly attacked with a malady which resulted in his death. After the funeral the will was opened, and it was found, to the mortification and disappointment of his relatives, that instead of leaving to them the bulk of his large fortune, he had bequeathed the major portion to his adopted son, and had only left the sum of twenty thousand dollars to be divided equally among the six children of his brother.

If the widow had desired to be revenged, she had succeeded admirably in her wishes, and the solemn countenances of the disappointed Bucholzes, as they wended their way homeward after the reading of the will, from which they had hoped so much, would have been full satisfaction for the years of insult she had been compelled to endure from them during the life of her husband.

This disposition of the estate of the uncle was a severe blow to those who had so confidently expected to have been enriched by his death, and produced a marked change in their manner of living. The bright, airy castles which they had builded, faded away--their hopes of prospective wealth were rudely dissipated, and the necessity for facing the actual position of affairs stared them in the face.

William could no longer be permitted to lead the idle life of a soldier, and one and all would be compelled to labor for themselves.

It was a bitter awakening from a bright dream, but the man of their hopes was dead, and their regrets were unavailing.

Bucholz, therefore, obtained an extended leave of absence, and in a short time entered into an engagement with an extensive farmer to learn the science of agriculture, and became domiciled beneath the roof of his employer and instructor. The dull routine of a farmer's life was, however, illy suited to his impulsive disposition, and although he had no manual labor to perform, he soon grew tired of the monotony of his existence and longed for a change.

He had read of the wonderful success which attended the efforts of some of his countrymen who had emigrated to Australia, that arcadia of the agriculturist, and burning with a desire to seek his fortune in the new land of promise, he began to make inquiries of the place, its products, and of the possibilities of successful operations while there.

All the information which he gleaned was of such a character as to fill his mind with ambitious projects, and a desire to make his fortune in that far-off country, and he resolved to undertake the journey.

His preparations were soon made, and ere many days he was afloat upon the heaving ocean, bound for New York, where he was informed he could procure a sailing vessel direct to Australia, at a cost much less than he could by any other process of travel.

Arriving without accident in New York, he had taken up his quarters at "The Crescent Hotel," and proceeded to make inquiries concerning the continuance of his journey.

To his disappointment, however, he discovered that no vessels were likely to sail from New York directly to Australia, and the limited means he had brought with him were insufficient for the expense necessary to travel overland to a point of embarkation. He was therefore compelled to delay his journey until he could receive sufficient funds to enable him to continue farther. He immediately wrote to his family for the money he required, and it was while awaiting their reply that he met Frank Bruner, the servant of Henry Schulte, whose acquaintance was destined to produce such a marked and dramatic effect upon his future life.

CHAPTER XVI.

_Frank leaves the Service of his Master._--_A Bowery Concert Saloon._--_The departure of Henry Schulte._--_William Bucholz enters the employ of the old gentleman._

We left William Bucholz and Frank Bruner in conversation at "The Crescent Hotel." The young Hussar who had been reared in luxury, whose life until this time had been a round of pleasure and gayety, and who had come to America to seek his fortune--and the servant of the strange and silent old man who had crossed the sea to escape the imagined dangers which threatened him and to find peace and comfort in his declining years.

"You have just come over from Germany, I understand," said Bucholz, addressing his companion in German.

"Just arrived to-day," replied Bruner.

"Did you come alone?"

"Oh, no; I came with the old gentleman who has just gone to bed."

"Have you been long with him?"

"Long enough to want to get away from him," was the reply.

"What is the reason?" inquired Bucholz, with some indication of surprise and curiosity.

"Well, he does not use me properly, and I have grown tired of his abuse," answered Frank, sullenly.

After further questioning him, Bucholz learned the story of the old man's eccentricities, the fact of his large possessions, and the probability of his extending his travels as far West as California.

"I would not leave him," said Bucholz, after Frank had finished his narrative; "he may not live very long, and he will no doubt do something handsome for you."

"I don't care for that," replied Frank Bruner; "I would not continue many days longer in his service even if I knew that he would leave me all his money."

At that moment the sound of a cane struck angrily upon the floor above them admonished Frank that his master desired his services, and also that he was in no pleasant humor.

"There he goes!" cried Frank, "and I must go to him or I shall feel the weight of his stick. Good-night."

"Good-night!" said Bucholz, extending his hand, "I will see you again in the morning."

The young man turned and left the room, and Bucholz seated himself apart from the rest of the company, apparently lost in profound meditation. Shortly after, he roused himself, as with an effort, and bidding his comrades good-night he went up stairs to his room.

He did not immediately retire, however, but sat up until a late hour, revolving in his mind the information which he had just received and debating with himself as to his future course of action.

The result of this mental consultation appeared satisfactory to him, and he undressed himself and went to bed. He would encourage Frank to leave his distasteful employment, and he would offer himself as an applicant for the vacant position. He had no fears of the result, and felt no anxiety about the probabilities of his being made the subject of the old man's castigations. If the old gentleman designed going to California he would be so much nearer to the coveted place of his ambitious dreams, and he could very easily submit to temporary discomforts in order to secure the practical benefits which he so much desired. With this comforting reflection he closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep.

In the morning he again met Frank Bruner, and the conversation of the night before was continued. Bucholz, without seeming to be anxious upon the subject, adroitly led the unsuspecting servant on in his dislike for his occupation, and he succeeded so well that before the day was pa.s.sed, Frank had firmly resolved to inform Henry Schulte of his plans and of his intention to leave his service.

In the evening, immediately after supper, he communicated his intention to his master, who received it with violent manifestations of disappointment and anger, and almost instantly retired to his room, locked his door, thereby denying admission to Frank, who was prepared to serve his irate master until he could provide himself with another servant.

Finding himself left to his own resources, Frank cordially accepted an invitation to take a stroll with his newly-found a.s.sociate, and putting on his hat he linked his arm in that of Bucholz, and they left the hotel together.

Walking slowly on they soon came to the brilliantly-lighted thoroughfare in the Bowery, known as Chatham Street, and here their ears were saluted with the sounds of music, which emanated from the illuminated saloons, which lined the sidewalks at frequent intervals.

Frank gazed with curious eyes at this phase of New York life, so new and startling to one whose early years had been pa.s.sed in the rural simplicity of a German peasant, and as Bucholz stopped before one of these places and asked him if he would like to go inside, he made not the slightest objection. Quietly following his guide they found themselves within the walls of one of those gilded palaces of sin, that have so often proved the avenues through which many unsuspecting young men have entered upon a life of shame and dishonor.

To Frank, however, the scene was novel and exciting, the music was exhilarating, and the "pretty waiter girls" were objects of curiosity and unfeigned admiration. Pushing their way through the crowded a.s.sembly, where men and women were engaged in drinking and indulging in loud and boisterous laughter, they reached a position in front of a stage that had been erected in the rear end of the hall, and before which hung a gaudily-painted curtain, which hid from the spectators the mysteries and perhaps the miseries that lay beyond.

Bucholz appeared to be perfectly at home among this mixed a.s.semblage, and nodded familiarly to right and left in recognition of numerous friends and acquaintances. Presently a buxom-looking German girl, whose rosy cheeks and rotund figure gave evidence that her life in this place had been of short duration, advanced towards them, and, seating herself beside Bucholz, bade him good evening, in a tone of familiarity which betokened a long, or, at least, a well-understood acquaintance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"A buxom looking german girl sat down beside Bucholz, and bade him Good Evening."_]

To the young man who accompanied Bucholz there seemed to be a fascination in the glitter of his present surroundings, and he instinctively began to feel envious of his more fortunate companion, who appeared so much at his ease, and whose intimacy with the Teutonic siren was so much to be admired.

During the progress of the mixed entertainment that followed, in which dancing and singing, banjo playing, and a liberal display of the anatomy of the female "artists" formed the princ.i.p.al features, they sipped their beer and applauded loudly the efforts of those who ministered to their enjoyment.

Upon the conclusion of the performance, they returned to their hotel, and Frank Bruner's mind was more firmly settled in his determination to leave the service of Henry Schulte, and to find employment in the city, where such pleasures would be open to him at all times.

On their walk homeward to the hotel Frank again mentioned his resolve to Bucholz.