was far from likely
that any of them would consider themselves called upon to stop in their
walk and to produce two large gold pieces and a small one, for the benefit
of an odd-looking stranger. And yet, as he hurried along the street, the
poor Count had not the least idea where he was going, and if he should
chance to reach any definite destination in his erratic course he would
certainly be much puzzled to decide what he was to do upon his arrival.
The one thing which remained clearly defined in his shaken intelligence
was that he must pay to Fischelowitz the money promised within the limit
of time agreed upon, or be disgraced for ever in his own eyes, as well as
in the estimation of the world at large. The latter catastrophe would be
bad enough, but nothing short of self-destruction could follow upon his
condemnation of himself.

A special Providence is said to watch over the movements of madmen,
sleep-walkers and drunkards. Those who find difficulty in believing in the
direct intervention of Heaven in very trivial matters of everyday life,
are satisfied to put a construction of less tremendous import upon the
facts in cases concerning the preservation of their irresponsible
brethren. A great deal may be accounted for by considering what are the
instincts of the body when momentarily liberated from the directing
guidance of the mind. It has been already noticed in the course of this
story that, when the Count did not know where he was going, he was
generally making the best of his way to the establishment in which so much
of his time was passed. This is exactly what took place on the present
occasion. Conscious only of his debt, and not knowing where to find money
with which to pay it, he was unwittingly hurrying towards the very place
in which the payment was to be made, and, within a quarter of an hour of
his leaving his lodging, he found himself standing on the pavement, over
against the tobacconist's shop, stupidly gazing at the glass door, the
well-known sign and the familiar, dilapidated chalet of cigarettes which
held a prominent place in the show window. No longer ago than yesterday
afternoon the little Swiss cottage had been flanked by the Wiener Gigerl,
whose smart red coat and insolent face had been the cause of so much
disaster and anxiety during the past twenty-four hours. The very fact that
the doll was no longer there, in its accustomed place, served to remind
the Count of his rash promise to pay the mo