Part 46 (1/2)

Pomuchelskopp hesitated a little at first, and scratched behind his ear, but at last said, ”Yes;” on condition that Axel would not rent the Pastor's acre again, of the new Pastor. This might well have startled the young Herr, and Muchel was conscious of the danger, so he proved to him again, with figures, that it would be much better that the Gurlitz farm should undertake this lease, and that in this way both would be gainers. Axel gave but little attention, and finally consented to give the desired promise in writing; his difficulty was pressing, he must meet the first necessity, and he was just the sort of man to kill his milch cow, in order to sell her skin.

The business was now settled; Axel wrote his bond, and Pomuchelskopp packed up the two thousand thalers, and sent it, with a letter from Axel, by his own servant, to Rahnstadt, to the post. That was the best way; no one in Pumpelhagen need know anything about it. As Axel rode home, he repeated two lies to himself, until he really believed them; first, that Habermann alone was properly to be blamed for the loss of the money, and second, that he ought to be glad to get rid of the Pastor's acre.

CHAPTER XXV.

Meanwhile, the Rahnstadt burgomeister, who was Axel's magistrate, had arrived at Pumpelhagen, bringing Herr Slusuhr, the notary, as his recording clerk.

The man had acted very discreetly; as soon as he had read Habermann's letter, he had sent policemen round to all the alehouses and shops, where laborers resorted, to inquire whether and when the day-laborer Regel, of Pumpelhagen, had been there, and in this way he found out enough to a.s.sist him in the examination. The laborer had come to him, yesterday afternoon, about four o'clock, and had got his pa.s.s made out; he had showed him the package of money,--the gold was sewed in black-waxed cloth,--and the burgomeister had looked at it closely enough, to see that the seal had not been tampered with. The man had told him,--he was on the whole, rather talkative,--that he should travel all night; it was pretty hard, to be sure, at this time of year; but the man was a strong, hearty fellow; it would be no darker, for the snow made it light, and, towards midnight, the moon rose; so he had advised him to set off immediately. This however, as he had ascertained, he had not done, he had gone into several ale-houses, and treated himself to liquor; even by nine o'clock he was not out of Rahnstadt, he had stopped before a shop, and drank brandy, and bragged, and talked of his great sum of money, had also showed the packet to the shopman. Where he had stayed, afterwards, he did not know; but so much seemed to be certain, the man was grossly intoxicated; and the justice now asked Axel and Habermann, whether the fellow were in the habit of drinking.

”I do not know,” said Axel; ”in these particulars, I must rely upon my inspector.”

Habermann looked at him, as if this speech seemed to him a very strange one, and he would have said something about it; but he merely remarked to the burgomeister that he had never noticed anything of the kind, or even heard of it; Regel was always the soberest fellow on the place, and in that respect he had no complaints to make of any of the people.

”May be,” said the burgomeister, ”but it wasn't quite right with the man; there is always a first time,--he had certainly been drinking before he came to me. Let his wife come in.”

The wife came. She was a young, pretty woman; it was not long since she had been running about, a young girl, as fresh and bright as only our Mecklenburg country girls can be, but now sickness had washed off the maiden roses from her cheeks, and household labor had made the soft, rounded outlines a little angular,--our housewives in the country grow old early,--moreover she wore mourning, and was trembling all over, with anxiety.

Habermann pitied the poor woman, he went up to her, and said, ”Regelsch, don't be afraid; just tell the truth about everything, and it will all come right again.”

”Good Lord, Herr Inspector, what is this? What does it all mean? What has my husband done?”

”Just tell me, Regelsch, does your husband often drink more brandy than he can carry?” asked the justice.

”No, Herr, never in his life, he drinks no brandy at all, we don't keep it in the house; only at harvest time, he drinks a gla.s.s, when it is sent down from the manor house.”

”Had he drank any brandy, yesterday, when he left home?”

”No, Herr! He ate something first, and then he started off, about half past two. No, Herr,--but wait, wait! No, I did not see him, but yet--oh, Lord, yes! Last evening, when I went to the cupboard, the brandy-bottle was empty.”

”I thought you didn't keep any brandy in the house,” said the burgomeister.

”No, we don't; but this was a little of the funeral brandy; we buried our little girl last Friday, and there was some left over. Ah, and how he grieved! how he grieved!”

”And do you think your husband drank it?”

”Yes, Herr, who else should have done it?”

The evidence was recorded, and Regelsch was dismissed.

”So!” said Slusuhr in an insolent way to Axel, and winked towards the burgomeister, ”we have got at the brandy, if we could only get at the money!”

”Herr Notary, write!” said the burgomeister, quietly and with dignity, and pointed with his finger to his place: ”The day-laborer, Regel, is brought in, admonished to tell the truth, and gives evidence.”

”Herr Burgomeister,” said Axel, springing up, ”I don't see what this brandy story has to do with my money. The fellow has stolen it!”

”That is just what I want to find out,” said the burgomeister, very quietly, ”whether he has stolen or, more properly, embezzled the money, and whether he was altogether in a condition to do such a thing,” and going up to the young Herr he said, very kindly, but also very decidedly, ”Herr von Rambow, a thief, who intends to steal two thousand thalers, does not begin by getting drunk. Moreover, I must tell you, that as a magistrate, I have to consider not only your interests, but also those of the accused.”

The day-laborer, Regel, came in. He was deadly pale; but the distress which he had shown in his whole manner, before the old inspector, in the afternoon, had left him, he looked almost like old oaken wood, into which no worm ventures.