on
he stood still, and said 40-1/2. The agent, the provincials, and the
whole counting-house watched the progress of the bargain with some
curiosity; while Fink, with a certain degree of cordiality, proceeded to
counsel the poor Jew to retire without further discussion, seeing that
he was an utter fool, and there really was no dealing with him. Once
more the Jew went out, and Fink said to the principal, who was reading a
letter the while, "He'll let us have the wool if I let him have another
half dollar."

"How much is there of it?" asked the merchant.

"Six tons," said Fink.

"Take it," said Mr. Schroeter, reading on.

Again the door opened and shut, the chattering went on, and Anton kept
wondering how they could speak of a purchase when the seller had been so
decided in his refusal of their terms. Once more the door was gently
pushed open, and Tinkeles, creeping behind Fink, laid his hand on his
shoulder, and said, in a melancholy but confidential voice, "What will
you give, then?"

Fink turned round, and replied with a good-natured smile, "If you please
to take it, Tinkeles, 39-1/3; but only on the condition that you do not
speak another word, otherwise I retract the offer."

"I am not speaking," answered the Jew. "Say 40."

Fink made a movement of impatience, and silently pointed to the door.
The wool-dealer went out once more.

"Now for it!" said Fink.

In a moment or two Tinkeles returned, and, with more composure of
manner, brought out "39-1/2, if you will take it at that."

After some appearance of uncertainty, Fink carelessly replied, "So be
it, then;" at which Schmeie Tinkeles underwent an utter transformation,
behaving like an amiable friend of the firm, and politely inquiring
after the health of the principal.

And so it went on; the door creaking, buyers and sellers coming and
going, men talking, pens scratching, and money pouring ceaselessly in.

The household of which Anton now formed part appeared to him to be most
impressive and singular. The house itself was an irregular and ancient
building, with wings, court-yards, out-houses, short stairs, mysterious
passages, and deep recesses. In the front part of it were handsome
apartments, occupied by the merchant's family. Mr. Schroeter had only
been married for a very short time, his wife and child had died within
the year, and his sister was now his only near relation.

The merchant adhered rigidly to the old customs of the firm. All the
unm