ent.

"You're dead beat, my poor fellow," said he at last, "and it's your own
fault. You 've been drinking nothing but water these last two hours.
Go off to bed now, and leave me to finish this bottle. After that I 'll
have a plunge off the end of the mole, cold enough it will be, but no
ice, and you 'll find me here at ten o'clock with a breakfast appetite
that will astonish you."

I took him at his word, and said "Good-night."

CHAPTER XXIV. MY INSTRUCTIONS

My friend did not keep his self-made appointment with me at breakfast,
nor did I see him for two days, when we met in the street.

"I have gone over to the enemy," said he; "I have taken an engagement
with Bettmeyer: six thousand florins and all expenses,--silver florins,
_mon cher_; and if you're wise," added he in a whisper, "you 'll follow
my lead. Shall I say a word for you?"

I thanked him coldly, and declined the offer.

"All right; stick to gratitude, and you'll see where it will land you,"
said he, gayly. "I've sent you half a dozen letters to friends of mine
up yonder;" and he pointed towards the North. "You 'll find Hunyadi an
excellent fellow, and the Countess charming; don't make love to her,
though, for Tassilo is a regular Othello. As for the Erdoedis, I only
wish I was going there, instead of you;--such pheasants, such women,
such Tokay, their own vintage! Once you 're down in Transylvania, write
me word whom you 'd like to know. They 're all dear friends of mine. By
the way, don't make any blunder about that Hunyadi contract The people
here will want you to break it,--don't, on any account. It's the finest
bargain ever was made; splendid timber, magnificent bark, and the
cuttings alone worth all the money."

He rattled out this with his own headlong speed, and was gone before I
well knew I had seen him.

That evening I was ordered to Herr Oppovich's house to receive my last
instructions. The old man was asleep on a sofa, as I entered, and Sara
seated at a table by the fire, deeply engaged in accounts.

"Sit down, Herr Owen,"--she had ceased to call me Von Owen,--"and I will
speak to you in a minute."

I was not impatient at the delay, for I had time to gaze at her silken
hair, and her faultless profile, and the beautiful outline of her
figure, as, leaning her head on her hand, she bent over the table.

"I cannot make this come right,--are you clever at figures?" asked she.

"I cannot say it is my gift, but I will do my best to