Part 49 (2/2)

Mr. Toby Goodheart was a bachelor, because he was too ugly to obtain a wife, as he said himself: because his heaven-aspiring mind did not condescend to such worldly thoughts, as his admirers insisted upon believing. But neither the one nor the other could be the true reason, for Mr. Toby was not ugly, but a very good-looking man of some forty years, whose high forehead, bald at the temples, gave him a most G.o.d-fearing expression. Nor was Mr. Toby really so very G.o.d-fearing, unless his piety consisted in the solemn manner with which he stepped, Sunday after Sunday and year after year, dressed in his s.h.i.+ny-black dress-coat, black trousers, and a long flowing black gown fastened to the collar, through the church, pus.h.i.+ng his velvet bag by means of a long pole under the noses of the ”devout listeners.” That Mr. Toby was in reality a son of Belial was known to but very few men in Grunwald, where the excellent man had now been living for twenty years--perhaps only to one single man, and that was the occupant of the two best rooms in the s.e.xton's official dwelling: Mr. Albert Timm, surveyor.

Mr. Toby had dropped his mask in an evil hour, when the spirit of his much-beloved grog was stronger in him than the spirit of lies, and shown his true face to Mr. Timm, the ”famous fellow.” Mr. Toby Goodheart and Mr. Albert Timm had since that hour formed the closest intimacy, a friends.h.i.+p which was cemented and secured in its firmness and duration by a remarkable community of fondness for women, wine, and dice, and the common possession of delicate secrets.

Albert Timm entered the little room behind the parlor, where his landlord used to sit, with his hat on his head, and found the excellent man engaged in the pleasant occupation of preparing a gla.s.s of his favorite beverage.

”You may make one for me too,” said Albert, throwing his hat upon a chair and himself into the corner of the well-padded sofa.

”As heretofore, Albert mine?” asked the obliging landlord, taking another tumbler and spoon from the cupboard and placing it on the table by the side of the smoking tea-kettle.

”Rather a little more than less,” was the mysterious reply.

While Mr. Toby was brewing the hot drink according to this prescription, Albert was gazing at the tips of his boots.

”You are not in good humor to-night, Albert mine!” said Toby, looking up from his occupation.

”It would be a lie to say the contrary!”

”What's the matter? Has little Louisa caught you?”

”Little Louisa be d----d.”

”Or have they sent you a little note, which you had conveniently forgotten?”

”Something of the kind!”

”Well, what is it?” asked Toby, placing the grog he had mixed for Albert upon the table and stirring it busily. ”There, take a mouthful, and then speak out!”

Albert took the tumbler, tasted, to see if it was neither too hot nor too cold, neither too sweet nor too bitter, neither too strong nor too weak, and when he had gained the conviction that it came fully up to his standard, he more than half emptied it at one draught.

”It goes down easily to-night,” said Toby, good naturedly. ”Try it again.”

”You recollect that I commenced last summer at Grenwitz a foolish sort of a thing with a little black-eyed witch of a French girl?” continued Timm.

”I know,” said Toby, smiling cunningly; ”I know what's the matter now.”

”No, you don't. The little thing was as shy as a wild-duck. In other respects, to be sure, she was as stupid, too, for you know she lent me, poor as I was, three hundred dollars, which she had put into the savings bank.”

”That was n.o.ble in her.”

”But now she wants them back.”

”Did you give her a note?”

”No!”

”Why, then, you have only to say that you know nothing about it, and it's all right. Selah!”

”That is not so easy. She has great friends, with whom I should not like to have trouble.”

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