"Do you know where you are?" inquired the millionaire.
"Yes, sir, in the house of Mr. Greifmann the banker."
"And you are somewhat surprised, are you not?"
"I am so much astonished, sir, that I have several times pinched my arms and legs, for it all seems to me like a dream."
Seraphin smiled and laid aside his cap. Holt scanned the noble features of the young man more minutely, his handsome face, his stately bearing, and concluded the man in the blouse must be some distinguished gentleman.
"Take courage," said the noble looking young man in a kindly tone. "You shall be assisted. I am convinced that you are an honest, industrious man, brought to the verge of ruin through no fault of your own. Nor do I blame you for inadvertently falling into the nets of the usurer, for I believe your honest nature never suspected that there could exist so fiendish a monster as the one that lives in the soul of an usurer."
"You may rely upon it, sir. If I had had the slightest suspicion of such a thing, Shund never would have got me into his clutches."
"I am convinced of it. You are partially the victim of your own good nature, and partially the prey of the wild beast Shund. Now listen to me: Suppose somebody were to give you a thousand florins, and to say: 'Holt, take this money, 'tis yours. Be industrious, get along, be a prudent housekeeper, serve God to the end of your days, and in future beware of usurers'-suppose somebody were to address you in this way, what would you do?"
"Supposing the case, sir, although it is not possible, but supposing the case, what would I do? I would do precisely what that person would have told me, and a great deal more. I would work day and night. Every day, at evening prayer, I would get on my knees with my wife and children, and invoke God's protection on that person. I would do that, sir; but, as I said, the case is impossible."
"Nevertheless, suppose it did happen," explained Seraphin in a preliminary way. "Give me your hand that you will fulfil the promise you have just given."
For a moment Seraphin's hand lay in a callous, iron palm, which pressed his soft fingers in an uncomfortable but well-meant grasp.
"Well, now follow me," said Gerlach.
He led the way; Holt followed with an unsteady step like a drunken man. They presented themselves before the banker's counter. The latter was standing behind the trellis of his desk, and on a table lay ten rolls of money.
"You have just now by word and hand confirmed a promise," said Gerlach, turning to the countryman, "which cannot be appreciated in money, for that promise comprises almost all the duties of the father of a family. But to make the fulfilment of the promise possible, a thousand florins are needed. Here lies the money. Accept it from me as a gift, and be happy."
Holt did not stir. He looked from the money at Gerlach, was motionless and rigid, until, at last, the paralyzing surprise began to resolve itself into a spasmodic quivering of the lips, and then into a mighty flood of tears. Seizing Seraphin's hands, he kissed them with an emotion that convulsed his whole being.
"That will do now," said the millionaire, "take the money, and go home."
"My God! I cannot find utterance," said Holt, stammering forth the words with difficulty. "Good heaven! is it possible? Is it true? I am still thinking 'tis only a dream."
"Downright reality, my man!" said the banker. "Stop crying; save your tears for a more fitting occasion. Put the rolls in your pocket, and go home."
Greifmann's coldness was effective in sobering down the man intoxicated with joy.
"May I ask, sir, what your name is, that I may at least know to whom I owe my rescue?"
"Seraphin is my name."
"Your name sounds like an angel's, and you are an angel to me. I am not acquainted with you, but God knows you, and he will requite you according to your deeds."
Gerlach nodded gravely. The banker was impatient and murmured discontentedly. Holt carefully pocketed the rolls of money, made an inclination of gratitude to Gerlach, and went out. He passed slowly through the hall. The porter opened the door. Holt stood still before him.
"I ask your pardon, but do you know Mr. Seraphin?" asked he.
"Why shouldn't I know a gentleman that has been our guest for the last two weeks?"
"You must pardon my presumption, Mr. Porter. Will Mr. Seraphin remain here much longer?"
"He will remain another week for certain."
"I am very much obliged to you," said Holt, passing into the street and hurrying away.
"Your intended has a queer way of applying his money," said the banker to his sister the next morning. And he reported to her the story of Seraphin's munificence. "I do not exactly like this sort of kindness, for it oversteps all bounds, and undoubtedly results from religious enthusiasm."
"That, too, can be cured," replied Louise confidently. "I will make him understand that eternity restores nothing, that consequently it is safer and more prudent to exact interest from the present."
"'Tis true, the situation of that fellow Holt was a pitiable one, and Hans Shund's treatment of him was a masterpiece of speculation. He had stripped the fellow completely. The stupid Holt had for years been laboring for the cunning Shund, who continued drawing his meshes more and more tightly about him. Like a huge spider, he leisurely sucked out the life of the fly he had entrapped."
"Your hostler says there was light in Seraphin's room long after midnight. I wonder what hindered him from sleeping?"
"That is not hard to divine. In all probability he was composing a sentimental ditty to his much adored," answered Carl teasingly. "Midnight is said to be a propitious time for occupations of that sort."
"Do be quiet, you tease! But I too was thinking that he must have been engaged in writing. May be he was making a memorandum of yesterday's experience in his journal."
"May be he was. At all events, the impressions made on him were very strong."
"But I do not like your venture; it may turn out disastrous,"
"How can it, my most learned sister?"
"You know Seraphin's position," explained she. "He has been reared in the rigor of sectarian credulity. The spirit of modern civilization being thus abruptly placed before his one-sided judgment without previous preparation may alarm, nay, may even disgust him. And when once he will have perceived that the brother is a partisan of the horrible monster, is it probable that he will feel favorably disposed towards the sister whose views harmonize with those of her brother?"
"I have done nothing to justify him in setting me down for a partisan. I maintain strict neutrality. My purpose is to accustom the weakling to the atmosphere of enlightenment which is fatal to all religious phantasms. Have no fear of his growing cold towards you," proceeded he in his customary tone of irony. "Your ever victorious power holds him spell-bound in the magic circle of your enchantment. Besides, Louise," continued he frowning, "I do not think I could tolerate a brother-in-law steeped over head and ears in prejudices. You yourself might find it highly uncomfortable to live with a husband of this kind."
"Uncomfortable! No, I would not. I would find it exciting, for it would become my task to train and cultivate an abnormal specimen of the male gender."
"Very praiseworthy, sister! And if I now endeavor by means of living illustrations to familiarize your intended with the nature of modern intellectual enlightenment, I am merely preparing the way for your future labors."
CHAPTER VI.
MASTERS AND SLAVES
Under the much despised discipline of religious requirements, the child Seraphin had grown up to boyhood spotless in morals, and then had developed himself into a young man of great firmness of character, whose faith was as unshaken as the correctness of his behavior was constant.
The