Part 84 (1/2)

”Come back in a few days, then,” exclaimed the book-keeper; ”Mr. Palm will then be back, perhaps, from his journey.”

”In a few days!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the strange voice--”in a few days my wife and child will be starved to death, for unless I am able to procure relief within this hour, my cruel creditor will have me taken to the debtors' prison, and I shall be unable then to a.s.sist my sick wife and baby. Oh, have mercy on my distress! Let me see Mr. Palm, that I may implore his a.s.sistance!”

”Mr. Palm is not at home as I told you already,” exclaimed the book-keeper in an angry voice. ”How am I to let you see him, then? Come back in a few days--that is the only advice I can give you. Go now, and do not disturb me any longer!”

”No, people shall never say that I turned a despairing man away from my door,” muttered Palm, rapidly crossing the room and opening the door of the store.

”Stay, poor man,” he said to the beggar, who had already turned around and was about to leave the store--”stay.”

The beggar turned around, and, on perceiving Palm, who stood on the threshold of the door, uttered a joyful cry.

”Do you see,” he said, triumphantly to the book-keeper--”do you see that I was right? Mr. Palm is at home, and will help me.”

”I will help you if I can,” said Palm, kindly. ”What does your debt amount to?”

”Ah, Mr. Palm, I owe my landlord a quarter's rent, amounting to twenty florins. But if you should be so generous as to give me half that sum, it would be enough, for the landlord has promised to wait three months, provided I paid him now ten florins.”

”You shall have the ten florins,” said Palm. ”Mr. Bertram, pay this man ten florins, and charge them to me.”

”Oh, Mr. Palm, how kind you are!” exclaimed the beggar, joyfully. ”How shall I ever be able to thank you for what you have done for me to-day?”

”Thank me by being industrious and making timely provision for your wife and child, in order not to be again reduced to such distress,” said Palm, nodding kindly to the stranger, and returning to the adjoining room.

With the ten florins which the book-keeper had paid to him, the beggar hastened into the street. No sooner had he left the threshold of Palm's house than the melancholy and despairing air disappeared from his face, which now a.s.sumed a scornful and malicious mien. With hasty steps he hurried over to St. Sebald's church, to the pillar yonder, behind which two men, wrapped in their cloaks, were to be seen.

”Mr. Palm is at home,” said the beggar, grinning. ”Go into the store, cross it and enter the adjoining sitting-room--there you will find him.

I have spied it out for you, and now give me my pay.”

”First we must know whether you have told us the truth,” said one of the men. ”It may be all false.”

”But I tell you I have seen him with my own eyes,” replied the beggar.

”I stood in the store, and cried and lamented in the most heart-rending manner, and protested solemnly that my wife and baby would be starved to death, unless Mr. Palm should a.s.sist me. The book-keeper refused my application, but then I cried only the louder, so as to be heard by Mr.

Palm. And he did hear me; he came out of his hiding-place and gave me the ten florins I asked him for. Here they are.”

”Well, if you have got ten florins, that is abundant pay for your treachery,” said the two men. ”It is Judas-money. To betray your benefactor, who has just made you a generous present; forsooth, only a German could do that.”

They turned their backs contemptuously on the beggar, and walked across the street toward Palm's house.

There was n.o.body in the hall, and the two men entered the store without being hindered. Without replying to the book-keeper and second clerk, who came to meet them for the purpose of receiving their orders, they put off their cloaks.

”French gens d'armes,” muttered the book-keeper, turning pale, and he advanced a few steps toward the door of the sitting-room. One of the gens d'armes kept him back.

”Both of you will stay here,” he said, imperiously, ”we are going to enter that room. Utter the faintest sound, the slightest warning, and we shall arrest both of you. Be silent, therefore, and let us do our duty.”

The two clerks dared not stir, and saw with silent dismay that the two gens d'armes approached the door of the sitting-room and hastily opened it.

Then they heard a few imperious words, followed by a loud cry of despair.