t of the various persons here and there who were waiting for
the receipt of their money haunted his sleeping and waking hours and
increased his restlessness. He had always been considered a man who
could be perfectly depended upon; now he frequently disappointed hopes
that he had raised, and even failed to keep his engagements. He had
trusted that the mere knowledge of his distress would be a sufficient
protection against outside annoyances; he soon learned that men accept
no excuses in lieu of their ready money. The ring of that is better
than the echo of any good name; the best have too often proved a poor
dependence.

Annele saw that Lenz was tormenting himself unreasonably. She was often
tempted to turn his importunate creditors out of doors, and bid him not
yield so meekly to their cruel exactions. It was the way of the world,
as she knew, to trample upon those who cringed to it. But she kept her
thoughts to herself. His distress should drive him to adopt her
cherished plan of buying a hotel. Then, and not till then, would
matters assume a different aspect.

In his anxiety and despair Lenz felt keenly the desolation at his
heart, and his sidelong glance at Annele often said, as plainly as
words could have done: You are right. You have often reproved me for
being shiftless and good-for-nothing. Your words are coming true; I am
good-for-nothing. My heart is consumed with anxieties, and this
unloving life is wearing me away. I am like a candle that is kept
burning at both ends. May it soon be burned out!

Many persons brought him articles to be repaired, and obliged him to
work off part of his debt in that way. Now, now when bread was needed
for to-day, and there was no provision for the future, it was hard to
have to work for the past.

Some sat by him while he did their little jobs, keeping him thus a
prisoner in his own house; others with complaints and revilings took
away again the commissions he had failed to execute.

Such an existence was not to be endured. He must find some remedy, some
lasting remedy. His present state was neither living nor dying. "It is
intolerable to hang thus suspended by the hair of my head. I am
resolved once more to have solid ground under my feet," he said to
Annele. She vouchsafed a scarce perceptible nod of assent, but the mere
exercise of his will gave him new strength.

Early the next morning he set off across the mountain to visit his
mother's relations in the next valley.