im, too; he's a friendly
soul as ever I seen! There it is, now. Peter Dalton's hand and deed;"
and he surveyed the superscription with considerable satisfaction.
"There it is, Hans, and much good may it do you!" said he, as he
delivered the document with an air of a prince conferring a favor on a
subject.

"You will bear in mind that Abel Kraus is a hard creditor!" said Hans,
who could not help feeling shocked at the easy indifference Dalton
exhibited.

"Well, but haven't we settled with him?" cried Peter, half impatiently.

"So far as surety for his claim goes--"

"Yes, that's what I mean,----he's sure of his money; that's all he
wants. I 'd be the well-off man to-day if _I_ was sure of getting back
all ever I lent! But nobody does, and, what's more, nobody expects it."

"This bond expires in twelve days," added Hans, more than commonly
anxious to suggest some prudential thoughts.

"Twelve days!" exclaimed Peter, who, instead of feeling alarmed at the
shortness of the period, regarded it as so many centuries. "Many's
the change one sees in the world in twelve days. Would n't you take
something,--a glass of Marcobrunner, or a little plain Nantz?"

Hans made no reply, for, with bent-down head and hands crossed on his
bosom, he was deep in thought.

"I 'm saying, that maybe you'd drink a glass of wine, Hans?" repeated
Dalton; but still no answer came. "What dreamy creatures them Germans
are!" muttered Peter.

"And then," exclaimed Hanserl, as if speaking to himself, "it is but
beginning life anew. Good-bye--farewell." And so saying, he touched his
cap courteously, and moved hastily away, while Dalton continued to
look after him with compassionate sorrow, for one so little capable of
directing his path in life. As he re-entered the house, he found Mrs.
Ricketts, abandoning all hopes of her distinguished guests, had just
ordered the dinner; and honest Peter consoled himself for their absence
by observing that they should be twice as jolly by themselves! Had it
depended on himself alone, the sentiment might have had some foundation,
for there was something of almost wild gayety in his manner. All the
vicissitudes of the morning, the painful alternations of hope and
fear,--hope so faint as to be a torture, and fear so dark as to be
almost despair,--had worked him up to a state of extreme excitement.

To add to this, he drank deeply, quaffing off whole goblets of wine, and
seeming to exult in the mad whirlwind of h