A moment later a man stepped in, carrying a large wallet under his arm, and introduced himself,--"Bailiff Krause."

"Begging the Herr First Lieutenant's pardon in case I should disturb him, but I have a mandate from the court. Please, here it is!"

And he took from his wallet a voluminous envelope and handed it to Borgert, who, however, did not lose his presence of mind, and answered in a pleasant tone:

"Ah, I know. Has already been settled yesterday; for I presume it is for that small amount which I owe to my tailor."

"As far as I know, Herr First Lieutenant, it is about the matter of the firm of Froehlich & Co., the sum demanded, on bills of exchange signed by you, being four thousand marks, for furniture sold and delivered."

"Oh, that's it! The firm might have spared itself that trouble; the whole amount was transmitted by my bank day before yesterday."

"So much the better, then," jested the official. "I have the honor."

"Farewell, Herr Krause; I would say _au revoir_, but your visit always means a doubtful pleasure."

When the man was gone, Borgert tore open the envelope and scanned the contents of the document it contained.

That was a most disagreeable business. The furniture had not yet been paid for, but already mortgaged, although the explicit terms of the contract forbade his doing so until after payment in full to the merchant had made the whole his own property.

Four thousand marks! A heap of money! He would have to speak to Leimann; perhaps he could do something.

Then suddenly he remembered that the bailiff had not passed out into the street through the front garden. He called his servant and asked him:

"Where did the man go to?"

"Upstairs, Herr First Lieutenant."

"To Leimann's?"

"Just so, Herr First Lieutenant."

Well, now, what had he to do up there? Could it be possible that they also were in his toils? That indeed would be bad, for Leimann had, in spite of all, remained something like an aid and help to him in becoming surety for payments promised or in calming obstreperous creditors.

Meanwhile Herr Krause handed to Frau Leimann, scared almost out of her wits, the summons in an action begun by the firm of Weinstein & Co., to which she owed a matter of four hundred marks for a silk robe furnished by them.

She was in despair, and scurried to and fro in the room, vainly cudgelling her brain for an idea that would bring her succor. What could she do? Where should she get the money? She would go to Borgert and ask him for the amount. But what would he think of her? Would he not lose all respect for her?

For a moment she stood undecided in her room, and pressed both hands against her wildly beating heart. Then she went resolutely to the door and hastened down the back stairs.

She found Borgert musing in an easy-chair, and he did not even rise when she entered, but merely waved his hand in greeting to her. But she stepped up to him and kissed him tenderly on the forehead, and then she sat down close by him. He was puzzled by her demeanor, and looked up questioningly into her face.

"What kind of visitors do you receive nowadays?" he said pleasantly.

"I? Visitors?" Frau Leimann retorted with some embarrassment. "I have received nobody,--truly not, nobody."

And while she said it her eyes wandered about the room without meeting his.

"You have received no visitor? Oh, but that is a big fib!"

"Why should you say so, George; who should have been to see me?"

"Well, I merely thought a certain Herr Krause called on you."

"How do you know that?" she cried, startled by his knowledge.

"I know everything, my child; even that the bailiff was just in to see you."

Frau Leimann was covered with confusion, and mechanically began to fondle the seam of her little silk apron.

"Well, if you know, it is unnecessary for me to tell you. Yes, he was to see me."

"And what did he want?"

The pretty woman told him the details. With a tear-choked voice she exclaimed:

"I am lost if my husband hears of it!"

"But I don't see. If he has bought it he must, of course, pay for the dress."

"He knows of nothing. I had to have the dress, the red silk, you know.

I told him at that time that my mother had sent it; for he would have refused me, and I had to have it, and so I took it on my own account."

"That was very stupid of you. Where will you take the money from now?"

"I really don't know. Cannot you help me?"

"I will go to those people and ask them for time."

"There would be no use in doing that, George; I must have the cash. I need at least a thousand marks, for I have to pay for other things as well--the dressmaker, the hair-dresser, the shoemaker, etc. Get me the money, George, and show me that you really love me as much as you always say you do."

"I?" Borgert set up an unpleasant laugh. "Good heavens, I don't know myself what is to become of me."

"How so? Are you in debt too?"

"If you would take the trouble to devote some attention to that big sheet of paper over there on my desk, you might be able to tell. That sort of thing I get every day."

Frau Leimann stepped up to the desk, unfolded the big sheet, and stared with wide-open eyes at the formidable columns.

"Why, I had no idea of this, George! What is to become of all this?

You were my only reliance, and now I am entirely undone."

She sank, sobbing, down on the divan and covered her face with both hands.

"Don't lose courage at once, you little goose; you won't die for the lack of these few hundred marks!" Borgert consoled her, affectionately passing his hand over her blonde hair. "I will see what can be done, and in a week's time you'll have your thousand marks."

For an answer she put her arms passionately around Borgert's neck, and thanked him.

"I knew that you would not leave me in the lurch, thou best one!"