“But I do not want to wait so long,” said the Count. He had sprung up and paced up and down the room with hasty steps; now he returned to the table where the Councillor, certain that the interview would not be terminated thus, remained quietly sitting. “And supposing that I wished to wait so long—the very important question arises of whether I could. This is a confidential interview, Councillor Schieler. Well, I am in a bad way. The interest on my debts almost swallows up my income, and by the there will be an additional sum of fifty thousand thalers.”
“Have you spoken to Hugo Lübbener? I should have thought such a rich man, and your banker for so many years—”
“He has only been so for three years, since you recommended him to me so strongly, and besides now my account is very low; my banker’s book has not been made up since . I cannot ask any more from Lübbener; I have not even once been to see him.”
“Humph!” said the Councillor, with the air of a man who, thinking he knows something, now sees it in a new light. “I thought your affairs were—apart from temporary embarrassments—quite in order. What you now tell me, with I hope some of the exaggeration of despondency, surprises me very much indeed—very much.”
“I do not exaggerate,” replied the Count; “indeed I have said rather too little than too much.”
“But then still less do I understand why our project does not suit you. The value of both your properties would be doubled, and a directorship is also certain. That is always something.”
“It is nothing—nothing at all!” cried the Count vehemently. “A straw to a drowning man. What should I do with the paltry hundreds, which I can win in one evening at écarté? No! if once I go in for speculating it shall not be for nothing; if I make a haul it shall be a good one which shall compensate for the prick of conscience at going in direct opposition to all the traditions of my family and doing what Prince Prora would never condescend to, and which will make me secure in the future.”
The Councillor scratched his long nose with a pencil to hide a smile, and suppressed the answer which was on the tip of his tongue.
“How can a gambler be safe in the future?” He said instead: “You should marry, Count Golm!”
“The three negro heads in my coat-of-arms would seem to indicate a dowry of a round million. Tell me of some fascinating young Jewess!”
“I could name several, but I had no lovely daughter of Israel in my mind; on the contrary, the daughter of a house which, even if the blood of the Wends flows in their veins, is nearly as old as yours: Fräulein Elsa von Werben.”
“Are you joking?”
“I never was more in earnest; I have been turning the matter over in my mind for the last three days, that is to say since the luckiest of all accidents brought about a personal interview between you and the Werbens under circumstances which render further social intercourse a mere matter of duty on both sides. Think now, Count Golm; the chief opponent of the eastern line of railway is the General—upon strategical grounds perhaps, but I know the man well enough, certainly for personal motives also. The harbour can only be upon Warnow ground, so that the Warnow property must be bought by our company; but it cannot be bought, at least not at present, without his consent as co-trustee of the Warnow estates. Very well; marry the daughter, who must some day inherit half the property, and we shall soon see whether he will withhold from the son-in-law what he refuses to the Director of the Sundin-Wissow Railway and Harbour Company. It is not written in vain: ‘Lead us not into temptation.’ ”
“I think I have learnt to know the General also,” cried the Count, “and I bet a hundred to one he will resist the temptation.”
“I never bet,” answered the Councillor; “I always calculate, and I find that the calculation that drops will wear away a stone, though uncertain, is on the whole correct. But listen! Herr von Wallbach, as my colleague in the management of the Berlin-Sundin Railway, is as deeply concerned as I am that the Sundin-Wissow Railway, which would set us afloat again (you see, Count Golm, I am candour itself), should be carried out. But Herr von Wallbach, since the death of his father the minister, has taken his place as one of the trustees of the Warnow estate; and Ottomar von Werben, who is co-heir, is engaged—or as good as engaged—to Wallbach’s clever sister. Wallbach is too good a man of business not to know that if half the property is sold, and sold to us, it will be worth double—double, did I say? it will be worth three or four times what the whole thing is now; but he is afraid—from some remnants of aristocratic prejudices (excuse the word) to push the General too hard. Make common cause with him! I mean marry the daughter, as his sister marries the son, and—why, I very nearly made a bet then!”
The Count, who, while the Councillor had been speaking, walked up and down softly over the carpet, and often stopped so as not to lose a word, now turned round sharply.
“Good!” said he, “charming! but in any case I am to be the vendor!”
“How do you mean, Count Golm?” said the Councillor.
“Why it is plain enough,” answered the Count. “I as neighbour and son-in-law get
