ng, the wood is mine."

Now it was painful to the baron, much as he wanted money, to turn the
embarrassment of another to his own profit; and he said, "I consider it
unfair to reckon upon what is certain loss to the seller."

"Why should it be certain loss?" cried Ehrenthal. "He is a
speculator--he wants money; perhaps he has a greater bargain still in
his eye. He has offered me the whole quantity of wood for ten thousand
dollars, and I have no business to inquire whether he can or can not
make more of my money than I of his wood."

And so far Ehrenthal was right; but this was not all. The seller was an
unlucky speculator, pressed by his creditors, threatened with an
execution, and determined to frustrate their hopes by driving an
immediate bargain with a stranger, and then making off with the money.
Perhaps Ehrenthal knew this; perhaps the baron too surmised that there
must be a mystery, for he shook his head. And yet _he_ ran no risk,
incurred no responsibility; he but lent his money to a safe man, whom he
had known for years, and in a short time he should get rid of the evil
genius that tormented him ceaselessly. Too much excited to reflect
whether this was not a casting out of devils by Beelzebub, their chief,
he rang the bell for his carriage, and said, in a lordly tone, "You
shall have the money in an hour."

From that day the baron led a life of anxious suspense. He was always
going over this interview, always thinking of the piles of wood; and,
whenever he rode out, his horse's head was turned to the river, that he
might watch the progress of the thaw.

He had not seen Ehrenthal for some time. At length he came one morning
with his endless bows, and, taking out a large packet, said
triumphantly, "Well, baron, the affair is settled. Here are your notes,
and here the two thousand dollars, your share of the profit."

The baron snatched the packet. Yes; they were the very same parchments
he had taken out of the casket with so heavy a heart, and a bundle of
bank-notes besides. A weight fell from him. The parchments were safe,
the deficit made up. Ehrenthal was courteously dismissed. That very day
the baron bought a turquoise ornament for his wife, which she had long
silently wished for, and sunshine prevailed in the family circle.

But a dark shadow from the recent past had yet to fall athwart it. The
baron, reading the paper one day in his wife's room, observed an
advertisement concerning a bankrupt dealer in