Pomuchelskopp hesitated a little at first, and scratched behind his ear, but at last said, "Yes;" on condition that Axel would not rent the Pastor's acre again, of the new Pastor. This might well have startled the young Herr, and Muchel was conscious of the danger, so he proved to him again, with figures, that it would be much better that the Gurlitz farm should undertake this lease, and that in this way both would be gainers. Axel gave but little attention, and finally consented to give the desired promise in writing; his difficulty was pressing, he must meet the first necessity, and he was just the sort of man to kill his milch cow, in order to sell her skin.

The business was now settled; Axel wrote his bond, and Pomuchelskopp packed up the two thousand thalers, and sent it, with a letter from Axel, by his own servant, to Rahnstadt, to the post. That was the best way; no one in Pumpelhagen need know anything about it. As Axel rode home, he repeated two lies to himself, until he really believed them; first, that Habermann alone was properly to be blamed for the loss of the money, and second, that he ought to be glad to get rid of the Pastor's acre.

CHAPTER XXV.

Meanwhile, the Rahnstadt burgomeister, who was Axel's magistrate, had arrived at Pumpelhagen, bringing Herr Slusuhr, the notary, as his recording clerk.

The man had acted very discreetly; as soon as he had read Habermann's letter, he had sent policemen round to all the alehouses and shops, where laborers resorted, to inquire whether and when the day-laborer Regel, of Pumpelhagen, had been there, and in this way he found out enough to a.s.sist him in the examination. The laborer had come to him, yesterday afternoon, about four o'clock, and had got his pa.s.s made out; he had showed him the package of money,--the gold was sewed in black-waxed cloth,--and the burgomeister had looked at it closely enough, to see that the seal had not been tampered with. The man had told him,--he was on the whole, rather talkative,--that he should travel all night; it was pretty hard, to be sure, at this time of year; but the man was a strong, hearty fellow; it would be no darker, for the snow made it light, and, towards midnight, the moon rose; so he had advised him to set off immediately. This however, as he had ascertained, he had not done, he had gone into several ale-houses, and treated himself to liquor; even by nine o'clock he was not out of Rahnstadt, he had stopped before a shop, and drank brandy, and bragged, and talked of his great sum of money, had also showed the packet to the shopman. Where he had stayed, afterwards, he did not know; but so much seemed to be certain, the man was grossly intoxicated; and the justice now asked Axel and Habermann, whether the fellow were in the habit of drinking.

"I do not know," said Axel; "in these particulars, I must rely upon my inspector."

Habermann looked at him, as if this speech seemed to him a very strange one, and he would have said something about it; but he merely remarked to the burgomeister that he had never noticed anything of the kind, or even heard of it; Regel was always the soberest fellow on the place, and in that respect he had no complaints to make of any of the people.

"May be," said the burgomeister, "but it wasn't quite right with the man; there is always a first time,--he had certainly been drinking before he came to me. Let his wife come in."

The wife came. She was a young, pretty woman; it was not long since she had been running about, a young girl, as fresh and bright as only our Mecklenburg country girls can be, but now sickness had washed off the maiden roses from her cheeks, and household labor had made the soft, rounded outlines a little angular,--our housewives in the country grow old early,--moreover she wore mourning, and was trembling all over, with anxiety.

Habermann pitied the poor woman, he went up to her, and said, "Regelsch, don't be afraid; just tell the truth about everything, and it will all come right again."

"Good Lord, Herr Inspector, what is this? What does it all mean? What has my husband done?"

"Just tell me, Regelsch, does your husband often drink more brandy than he can carry?" asked the justice.

"No, Herr, never in his life, he drinks no brandy at all, we don't keep it in the house; only at harvest time, he drinks a gla.s.s, when it is sent down from the manor house."

"Had he drank any brandy, yesterday, when he left home?"

"No, Herr! He ate something first, and then he started off, about half past two. No, Herr,--but wait, wait! No, I did not see him, but yet--oh, Lord, yes! Last evening, when I went to the cupboard, the brandy-bottle was empty."

"I thought you didn't keep any brandy in the house," said the burgomeister.

"No, we don't; but this was a little of the funeral brandy; we buried our little girl last Friday, and there was some left over. Ah, and how he grieved! how he grieved!"

"And do you think your husband drank it?"

"Yes, Herr, who else should have done it?"

The evidence was recorded, and Regelsch was dismissed.

"So!" said Slusuhr in an insolent way to Axel, and winked towards the burgomeister, "we have got at the brandy, if we could only get at the money!"

"Herr Notary, write!" said the burgomeister, quietly and with dignity, and pointed with his finger to his place: "The day-laborer, Regel, is brought in, admonished to tell the truth, and gives evidence."

"Herr Burgomeister," said Axel, springing up, "I don't see what this brandy story has to do with my money. The fellow has stolen it!"

"That is just what I want to find out," said the burgomeister, very quietly, "whether he has stolen or, more properly, embezzled the money, and whether he was altogether in a condition to do such a thing," and going up to the young Herr he said, very kindly, but also very decidedly, "Herr von Rambow, a thief, who intends to steal two thousand thalers, does not begin by getting drunk. Moreover, I must tell you, that as a magistrate, I have to consider not only your interests, but also those of the accused."

The day-laborer, Regel, came in. He was deadly pale; but the distress which he had shown in his whole manner, before the old inspector, in the afternoon, had left him, he looked almost like old oaken wood, into which no worm ventures.

He acknowledged that he had drunk the brandy at home, more yet in Rahnstadt, and that he had been with the shopkeeper, about nine o'clock; then he had spent the night with his friends, in Rahnstadt, and about six o'clock had started for Rostock; but there he stuck to his story: by the Gallin wood, two fellows had attacked him, and taken the money by force. While the last of his deposition was being taken down, the door opened, and the laborer's wife rushed up to her husband,--for police-laws are not very strict, in our primitive Mecklenburg tribunals,--and grasped his arm: "Jochen! Jochen! Have you made your wife and children unhappy forever?"

"Marik! Marik!" cried the man, "I have not done it. My hands are clean.

Have I ever, in my life, stolen anything?"

"Jochen!" cried the wife, "tell the truth to the gentlemen!"

The laborer's breast throbbed and his face flushed a deep red, but in a moment he was as deadly pale as before, and he cast a shy, uncertain glance at his wife: "Marik, have I ever, in all my life, stolen or taken anything?"

The wife let her hands fall from his shoulder: "No, Jochen, you have not! You have not, truly! But you lie, you have often lied to me." She put her ap.r.o.n to her eyes, and went out of the room. Habermann followed her. The day-laborer, also, was led away.

The burgomeister had not disturbed the interview between the man and wife,--it was not in order, but it might furnish him a clue, by which he could draw the truth to light. Axel had started up at the woman's words, "You lie, you have often lied to me," and walked hastily up and down the room; his conscience smote him, he did not exactly know why, this evening, he only knew that he also had never stolen or taken anything, but he had lied. But so it is with the soul of a man who is not sincere, even at the moment when his conscience troubles him, he lies again, for his own advantage. _His_ case was quite a different one from the laborer's; he had only told a few falsehoods, for the benefit of his wife, that she might not be disturbed, the laborer had lied to conceal his guilt. Yes, Herr von Rambow, only keep on like that, and the devil will surely, in time, reap a fine harvest!

Slusuhr had finished his writing, and again went boldly up to Axel:

"Yes, Herr von Rambow, he who lies will steal."

That was an infamous speech, to a man in Axel's present humor, and when he knew, also, how near Slusuhr's business came to stealing; he was not merely astonished, he was terrified at the fellow's impudence. He might not have been so, if he had known what people said about the notary.

People used to say, that the Herr Notary's father had wished to sell him, when a little boy, to the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg, as a runner, and with this design had taken him to the Herr Doctor and Surgeon Kohlman, at New Brandenburg, to have his spleen cut out, so that he could run the better; but the Herr Doctor, who knew everything else, and claimed to have been appointed by the Lord Minister of the Supreme Wisdom for New Brandenburg, had, in an unfortunate moment, when his eyes were a little dim, cut out the conscience, instead of the spleen, so that Slusuhr had to journey through life, with a spleen, and without a conscience, and not as a runner, but as a notary.

There was nothing more for the magistrate to do at present; the witnesses, and the friends of the laborer, who had last seen him, were not at hand, and the burgomeister gave orders that the prisoner should be kept under guard, for this night, at Pumpelhagen, and taken to Rahnstadt the next day.

"He shall be put under the manor house, in the front cellar," said Axel to Habermann, who had come in again.

"Herr von Rambow," said Habermann, "Isn't it better to leave him in the chamber at the farm-house? There are iron bars--"

"No," said Axel, sharply, "there are iron bars in the cellar, too; I wish to avoid collusions, which might take place at the farm-house."

"Herr von Rambow, I am a very light sleeper, and if you wish it, I can have another person to watch at the door."

"What I have ordered, I have ordered. The business is of too much importance, for me to trust to your light sleep, and to a comrade of the rascal's."

Habermann looked at him inquiringly, and said, "As you command," and went out.

It was nearly ten o'clock, the supper table had long been waiting, Marie Moller was scolding because the baked fish would be cooked to death, Frida was also annoyed over the long delay of the supper, and only through her conversation with Franz was able to muster a little patience, when the gentlemen came in, after the trial. Frida went up to the burgomeister, in her bright way: "Isn't it so? He hasn't stolen the money?"

"No, gracious lady," said the burgomeister, with quiet decision, "the day-laborer has not stolen it, but it has been stolen from him, or he has lost it."

"Thank G.o.d!" cried she, out of a full heart, "that the man is no thief!

The thought that we had dishonest people on the place, would have been dreadful!"

"Do you think that our people are bettor than all others? They are just such a set as on any other estate, they all steal," observed Axel.

"Herr von Rambow," said Habermann, who had also come in to supper, "our people are honest, I have been here long enough to be fully convinced of it. No thieving has occurred, during the whole time."