He turned towards the door.

"Gotthold!"

There was despair in the tone; the young man's hand fell from the latch.

"Can it be, Cecilia? I have frightened you by my vehemence; but it shall not happen again. Only say one word--tell me you love me, and I will bear all; everything else is a matter of indifference to me; we must and shall see some way of escape; but you cannot let me go so, not so, I implore you!"

But he searched her face for some token of a.s.sent in vain. Her features seemed set in a horrible smile.

"No," she said, "not so: not before you have promised that you will save my husband, whom I love and honor; from whom I cannot, will not part."

She uttered the words slowly, in a monotonous tone, like something learned by rote, and now paused like a scholar who has forgotten her lesson.

"What does this farce mean?" said Gotthold.

The door of the sleeping-room opened, Gretchen put her curly head in, and then came bounding towards her mother. Cecilia clasped the child pa.s.sionately in her arms, and hastily continued, while a feverish flush replaced her former death-like pallor: "Save him from the bankruptcy into which he will fall, if you do not help him. The matter concerns--concerns--"

She released Gretchen, and pressed both hands upon her brow.

"Mamma, mamma," screamed the little one, beginning to cry aloud, as Gotthold supported the tottering figure to the nearest chair.

"What is the matter with my wife?" asked Brandow.

Gotthold had not heard him enter. At the first sound of his voice Cecilia raised herself from his arms, and stood erect between the two men, without support, clasping the child to her heart, pale as death, but with an expression of sorrowful resolution; and there was a strange, unvarying firmness in the tone of her voice, as, fixing her eyes upon her husband, she said:

"He knows, and will do it."

And then turning to Gotthold:

"You will do it for the sake of our old friendship, Gotthold, will you not? And farewell, Gotthold; we shall not see each other again."

She held out an icy hand to him, took Gretchen in her arms, and left the room without looking back, while the child stretched out its little hands over her shoulder, calling, "Bring me something pretty to-day, uncle Gotthold. Do you hear, uncle Gotthold?"

CHAPTER XVI.

"If women only wouldn't take everything tragically," said Brandow; "it's really a pity. First she proposed it herself, and now--but we mustn't expect the dear creatures to be consistent."

"And what do you require of me?" asked Gotthold.

He had seated himself at the table, while Brandow strode restlessly up and down the room, pretending to busy himself in doing first one thing and then another.

"Require! How you talk! Require! If I had had anything to require of you I shouldn't have been silent so long; but I think my wife has told you all, or did she--"

"She has told me everything except the amount."

"Except the amount? Capital! capital!--so exactly like a woman! Except the amount! Of course there's no occasion to lay any stress upon such secondary considerations."

And Brandow essayed a laugh which sounded rather hoa.r.s.e.

"Short and good."

"Short, for aught I care, and good. Well, I hope you'll take it so. I want twenty-five thousand thalers."

"When?"

"That's the devil of it. Ten thousand, which I owe the trustees of the convent for arrears of rent, are to be paid to-morrow to the convent treasurer at Sundin; but Sellien, if he comes to-day, would take the money back with him; of course, however, that is only a favor on his part, and would be a convenience on mine--there's no obligation; so to-morrow morning will be time enough for that. The rest--I mean the fifteen thousand--is a debt of honor, which must be paid this evening, if I don't wish to lose Brownlock and my wheat harvest, which I pledged. Between ourselves, they really had designs only upon Brownlock. They, that is, the two Pluggens and Redebas, who fairly pressed me for the money, and then fixed to-day as the last limit of time for payment, because they knew what a strait I am in about my arrears of rent, and hoped, under any circ.u.mstances, I should be unable to pay, and then they would have Brownlock. The sneaks, the swindlers!

Brownlock, that is worth twice as much as the whole amount--Brownlock, a horse on which I already have fifteen thousand in my betting-book, and which will bring me in thirty thousand as sure as my name is Carl Brandow."

He acted as if he had talked himself into a rage, and lashed the air and the tops of his boots with his riding-whip, while his crafty eyes rested steadily upon Gotthold, who still sat motionless at the table, resting his head on his hand.

"And I am to procure the money for you? How did you arrange that?"

"My plan was something of this kind: my wife told me you wished to leave us to-day; of course I am prodigiously sorry; but you have your reasons, which I respect, although I don't know them; and you will perhaps make use of the carriage I am just going to send to Prora for the Selliens. I'll let Hinrich Scheel, on whom I can depend implicitly, go with you; and Hinrich could then bring back the fifteen thousand with which I must feed my dear guests. You need not pay the money at all; that blameless usurer, your worthy Wollnow, might not count it out. The ten thousand for Sellien can remain there: he can take it himself to-morrow morning, when he will be obliged to pa.s.s through Prora again. Just write me a line, or even tell Hinrich that the money will be ready for him at Wollnow's on receipt of my order. Then he could leave the acquittance here, or give it to Wollnow, from whom I can get it whenever I have an opportunity, and the affair is settled."

"And suppose Wollnow won't give me the money?"

"Won't give it to you? Why, you have fifty thousand in his business."

"Not a groschen more than ten."

"But Semmel a.s.sured me--"

"Semmel is mistaken."

Brandow had paused, with his riding-whip uplifted. Was the man trying to drive a bargain? A paltry ten thousand? Did he expect to get off with that?

A scornful smile flitted over his sharp face, which was unusually pale to-day, and the riding-whip whizzed through the air.

"Oh, pshaw, you have credit for fifty thousand. Credit is money, as n.o.body knows better than I, who have lived on it so long. But do as you choose! I don't plead for myself--I'm made of hard wood, and shall survive the storm. I am sorry for poor Cecilia, though. She reckoned so confidently upon your friendship; persuaded me so urgently to confide in you."

Gotthold had been compelled to exert all his strength in order to control himself during this horrible scene, and not show his antagonist how terribly he was suffering. Suddenly a mist crept over his eyes, a roaring sound was in his ears, it seemed as if he was lying on the ground, and Brandow, who stood over him, was just raising his arm for a second blow. Then, with a violent effort, he shook off the faintness that threatened to overpower him, and said, rising:

"That is right. Cecilia shall not have reckoned upon my friendship in vain; take care that you don't make a mistake yourself."

Brandow had involuntarily recoiled a few paces, startled by Gotthold's ghastly face. He tried to answer with a jest to the effect that he was not in the habit of being mistaken where his debts were concerned; but Gotthold cut short the sentence with a contemptuous "Enough!" and left the room to pack his clothes.

Fifteen minutes after, the carriage driven by Hinrich Scheel rolled away through the misty morning across the moor, on the way to Prora.

CHAPTER XVII.