Benjamin Dorn was a compassionate individual. The desire to save a lost
soul filled him with the courage to pay Daniel Nothafft a visit. He
hobbled up the creaky steps with his club-foot, and knocked timidly at
the door.
"Can I be of service to you, Sir, in a Christian way?" he asked, after
he had blown his nose.
Daniel looked at him in amazement.
"You know, I could help you in an unselfish, Christian way, to get a
position. There is a great deal of work to be done down at the
Prudentia. If I were to recommend you to Herr Zittel it certainly would
not be in vain. Herr Zittel is head of the clerical department. I also
stand in with Herr Diruf, and he is general agent. I come in contact
nearly every day with Inspector Jordan, and Herr Jordan is a man of
exceptional culture. His daughter Gertrude attended my Sunday-school
class. She has received and still enjoys divine favour. If you were to
entrust your case to me, you would be entering upon a righteous,
wholesome career. I am always looking out for some one. To tell the
truth, and not wishing to appear immodest, I was born that way."
The man looked like a patchwork of qualmishness, tribulation, and
unctuous piety, and his coat collar was badly frayed.
"That's all right," replied Daniel; "don't you see that I am getting
along quite well?"
The pious life-insurance agent sighed and brushed a drop from the tip of
his nose with the back of his hand. "My dear Sir," said he, "take to
heart the words of Solomon: Pride goeth before a fall, but the humble in
spirit obtain honour."
"Yes, I'll take that to heart," said Daniel drily, and bent still lower
over the score on which he was working.
Benjamin Dorn sighed again, and limped out of the room. With his thumbs
pointing straight to high heaven above, he said to Frau Hadebusch: "You
know, Frau Hadebusch, I simply can't help it. I must lighten my heart in
a Christian way. What do you think?"
"Good heavens, what's he doing? What's he up to now?" sighed the old
lady, as she shoved her broom under her arm.
"As true as I stand here, the table is all covered with papers, and the
papers are all covered with some kind of mysterious signs."
Alarmed at the very thought of having a lodger up in the attic who was
practising black magic, Frau Hadebusch sent her husband down to the
district policeman. This enlightened official declared that the
brush-maker was a gossip. Vexed at this unanticipated description of
himself, the brush-maker went straightway to the inn at the sign of the
Horse and got drunk, so drunk that Benjamin Dorn had to take him home.
It was a beautiful moonlit night.