on
Rothsattel. The young lady herself told me so."

"It is as she has said," replied Anton, with difficulty concealing his
excitement.

"Do you know any thing of the connection between my father and the
baron?"

"But little; only what you have yourself occasionally told me, that your
father had money on the baron's estate. But when I was abroad, I heard
that a great danger threatened the baron, and I was even authorized to
warn him against an intriguer." Bernhard watched Anton's lips in agony.
Anton shook his head. "And yet," said he, "it was one who is no stranger
in your house. It was your book-keeper Itzig."

"He is a villain," cried Bernhard, eagerly, clenching his thin hand. "He
is a man of low nature. From the first day that he entered our house, I
felt a loathing of him as of an unclean beast."

"It appears to me," continued Anton, "that Itzig, of whom I knew
something in earlier years, is plotting against the baron behind your
father's back. The warning I received was so obscure, I hardly knew what
to make of it; however, I could but inform the baron of what had been
told me."

"That Itzig rules my father," whispered Bernhard. "He is a demon in our
family. If my father acts selfishly toward the baron, that man is
answerable for it."

Anton soothingly assented. "I must know how matters stand between the
baron and my father," continued the invalid. "I must know what is to be
done to help that family out of their difficulties. I can help," he went
on to say, and again a ray of joy lit up his pale face. "My father loves
me. He loves me much. In my present weak state, I have found out how his
heart clings to me--when he comes in the evening to my bed, and strokes
my forehead; when he sits where you do, Wohlfart, and mournfully looks
at me for hours together! Wohlfart, after all, he is my father!" He
clasped his hands, and hid his face in the pillows. "You must help me,
my friend; you must tell me how to save the baron. I charge you to do
this. I myself will speak to my father. I dreaded the hour before, but,
after what you have told me, I fear now either that he does not know
all, or," added he, in a low murmur, "that he will not tell me all. You
yourself must go to the baron."

"You must not forget, Bernhard," replied Anton, "that, even with the
best will in the world, it is not permitted us to force ourselves thus
into the affairs of others. However good our intentions may be, still I
am a stranger to th