"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 hoarse.
"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 Plueggens 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 circumstances, 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 pass 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 assured 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
nobody 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.