"I beg ten thousand pardons," he exclaimed in his hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Although I've the reputation of being unceremonious, I'm not usually so bold and uncivil as to enter a lady's room without ceremony. But circ.u.mstances which will be explained at some future day--the conviction, that there's danger in delay--perhaps several lives may depend upon whether this lady will grant me five minutes conversation--"

He had poured forth these words with such strange agitation, his whole appearance was so singular, that Frau Valentin really did not know whether she ought to grant his request. But the little artist relieved her of all hesitation.

"My dear friend," he exclaimed, "don't have the slightest scruple. My mission here is fulfilled, and I must hurry home to illuminate the Venetian palace; our lagune must flash and sparkle like the Grand Ca.n.a.l at the weddings of the doges, and you're invited too, my dear Herr Mohr. No refusals. You owe it to your friend."

"To whom?"

"Why our doctor, your friend Edwin, my little Leah's betrothed husband.

Haven't you heard of it yet?"

"Not a syllable. So he's engaged! I congratulate him. But don't depend upon me for this evening."

The artist started and looked at him in astonishment. This indifferent manner of receiving such wonderful news surprised and vexed him. But his joy was too great to be long clouded. "As you choose," said he, "we won't quarrel about it. Besides the young couple won't miss you, and to sit with an old fellow like me--you're right, it would not be much pleasure. So another time and farewell!"

He seized his hat in the exuberance of his delight waved an adieu to Frau Valentin. While so doing, the pins which had fastened the somewhat rusty piece of c.r.a.pe came out, and the sign of seven years mourning fell on the floor. He was about to pick it up, but changed his mind.

"No," said he, "we'll let it lie. If the mother can look down upon her child, she will think it natural if no c.r.a.pe is worn after this day.

Farewell, my best friend! I still insist that you're an angel."

CHAPTER XI.

As soon as the artist had left the room, Mohr, who had remained gloomily standing at the door, approached the astonished Frau Valentin and said in the tone of a foot-pad, who demands the traveler's purse at the pistol's point: "you know a certain Lorinser, Madame. As I have reason to think this man of honor a scoundrel, who with persistent cunning escapes the punishment he deserves, I take the liberty of asking whether you've heard anything of him since he left Berlin."

"Lorinser!" exclaimed the good lady. "Oh! dear Herr Mohr, say nothing about that unhappy man; he has already caused me sorrow enough. No, no, I don't know where he is, nor do I desire to do so, I will never see him again, and I think I'm tolerably sure he will never approach my threshold as he has every reason to remain away from Berlin."

"In so believing, Madame," Mohr replied with a short fierce laugh, "you have probably misjudged this Protestant Jesuit. True, when a few months ago and again very recently I made inquiries about him at his former lodgings and the police headquarters, I learned that he had gone away.

But people like him, who live on such intimate terms with angels and archangels, ascertain before death, how one must manage to move about as a glorified body. One saves rent thereby and pa.s.ses through every key hole. That this mysterious man should have forever abandoned the great city, where people can take advantage of others so much more comfortably and profitably, always seemed to me improbable. And this very morning, just as I was doing him the honor to think of him, he drove past me in a droschky--to be sure I only saw him through the window, and he has let his beard grow; but I hope to be condemned to go to the same heaven into which this fellow hopes to smuggle himself, if I was mistaken. Pardon my somewhat strong expressions. Since scoundrels like this, our beloved in the Lord, adopt a sweet pastoral style, an honest man must wrap himself in his natural bluntness."

"You've seen him? Lorinser? No, no!"

"I'm sure, Madame, that no other man has those mother of pearl, Lucifer-like eyes in his head. And besides, he seemed to recognize me, for he hastily cowered back into the corner of the droschky, but it was too late. Unfortunately I lost sight of him again. Perhaps, I thought, he's gone to his old customers once more; it's a Christian duty to forgive even such an imp of Satan, seventy times seven times. And after all, I said to myself, he's doubtless always behaved properly to the good Frau Valentin and not let the mask fall. I confess I half expected to find him here, when the servant said you had a visitor, that's why I rushed in so hastily."

Frau Valentin had sunk down upon the sofa and was gazing into vacancy with unconcealed horror. "No," said she, "we've done with each other.

I'll take care, that even if he should have the effrontery to knock, my door will not be opened to him again. No man has ever more shamefully misused the holiest words and trampled the purest confidence underfoot.

I'll not mention the sums of money, amounting to hundreds of thalers, he has talked out of me for charitable and religious objects, in order as I afterwards learned, to use them for himself and his dissolute life. But that he could do me the injury to corrupt an excellent young girl, to whom I gave employment in my own house--let's say no more about it, my dear sir. It always makes me so angry when I think of it, that I forget all the commands of charity and wish this fiend in the lowest depths of h.e.l.l."

"Hm!" muttered Mohr between his teeth; "money embezzled--an innocent young girl--very valuable material. Pardon me, Madame," he continued aloud, "if I'm not yet inclined to cut short this interesting conversation. Perhaps you would have the kindness to tell me the name and residence of this unfortunate girl?"

"What interest can you have in it?"

"A very Christian, or at least an honest one, honored lady. For when the arch-angel Gabriel--or was it Michael--drove the arch-fiend to the spot where he belonged, the lesson of forgiving seventy times seven times had not yet been invented. Suppose I had a fancy for playing arch-angel? Trust me without fear. I'll wager your poor protege knows where this wolf in sheep's clothing has his den, and as I've all sorts of things to settle with him--"

"Do what you believe to be your duty. I'll not prevent you; that is, forestall G.o.d, who has perhaps chosen you for an instrument to execute his decrees. Here"--and she tore a leaf out of her pocket book--"here's the list of my seamstresses. The name through which a line is drawn is that of the unfortunate girl."

"Like the black tablet in the doge's palace: _Marino Falier, decapitatus pro crimine_. Permit me to write down the number of the house. There--and now forgive this disagreeable visit, Madame. The messengers of the Council of Ten in Venice were notorious for their obligatory intrusiveness."

She took leave of him with a silent bend of the head; but as he was pa.s.sing through the ante-room, she called him back to entreat him for G.o.d's sake to deal considerately with the poor girl, who had deserved a better fate. "Have no fear," he replied. "We children of the world are all sinners ourselves, and know how poor sinners feel."

Half an hour after, he knocked at the door of a garret in one of the most out of the way streets in Friedrichstadt. A man's voice called "come in!" Seated on a table in the deep recess of a window, to catch the last rays of light, was an odd little figure with his legs crossed under him, sewing busily on a woman's dress. At the mention of Fraulein Johanne's name the busy little man let his work fall, shook his head angrily, and exclaimed in his hoa.r.s.e falsetto tone:

"Can you read, sir, or not? Pray look at the sign on the door, and see if there's not an inscription on it in large letters: 'Wachtel, Ladies'

dressmaker.' The person whom you seek did live here, but is now entirely to set up for four flights of stairs. Of course the fall is first down stairs from the garret to the ground floor; after a time they go still farther down: into the cellar, and then five feet under ground. Besides, it isn't my affair; ladies' tailors are not responsible for the first fall of man. Why! Well of course you know that yourself. Ha! ha!" He laughed and took up his needle again.

"Does the young lady live alone?"

"Yes and no, according to the way you understand it. 'I'm lonely but not alone'--as Schiller says. But try yourself, sir; I believe she's no longer as timid about having evening visitors, as she used to be when she worked for me; I work for her now, but I'm better paid at any rate.

This sort, you must know--"

"Does a certain Herr Lorinser happen to be with her, a clerical-looking, pale man, with a black beard?"

"Can't say, sir. It's not my business to keep the register. Mam'selle Johanne will be glad to tell you what you want to know--her present admirer is a clerk, in a banking house, and can't get away till the counting house is closed. So if you want a private conversation--ha!

ha!"

Mohr silently nodded a farewell and left the grinning little man. A feeling of repugnance overpowered him, which only increased, when on reaching the entry outside of the first floor rooms he heard a girl's voice singing one of Offenbach's favorite airs.

His ring interrupted the song. Directly after, a slender young girl with singularly large sparkling eyes in her pale little face opened the door. "Is it you, Edward?" she exclaimed. Then perceiving her mistake, said without any special sign of embarra.s.sment: "What do you want, sir?"

Mohr looked at her a moment with an expression of sincere sympathy, which however formed so singular a contrast to his stern face, that the beautiful girl was alarmed and began to consider how to get rid of this mysterious man.

"Don't be anxious, Fraulein," said he suspecting her thoughts, "true, I'm not 'Edward,' but I come with the best intentions. If you would give me two minutes--"

"Please, sir, if it can be settled out here--"

"As you choose. Be kind enough to answer but one question, whether you know the present residence of a certain Herr Lorinser--"

A deep flush suddenly crimsoned her face, her eyes which had hitherto flickered with a strange restless light, now glowed with a sullen angry fire, and her hand trembled on the door. She was evidently obliged to reflect before she could reply.

"Why do you ask this question?" she said in a low, hurried tone. "But come in. Here in the public entry--"

He followed her into the ante-room, and she closed the door behind them, but remained on the threshold and did not invite him to sit down.

"Fraulein," he began, "I have a personal matter to settle with this man. He vanished for some months and has now appeared again, and as no one can help me on the track--for I suppose he has not used his real name again in the city--"

"But why do you come to me? Who told you--?"

"Some one who means well toward you and deeply regrets all that has occurred."

"I know whom you mean: Frau Valentin. Ha! ha!" she exclaimed, with a sudden change of tone, "so it is she! And she means well toward me! Why yes, as she understands it, so she does! When I went to her again and wanted to work--for I thought she would surely receive me, though old acquaintances would have nothing more to do with me--I was met with only a shrug of the shoulders and a stern face; she was very sorry, but she couldn't give her other seamstresses such an example--then a few thalers were pressed into my hand and a recommendation to some house of correction. First I wept--then laughed, as I always laugh now when I hear that these religious people mean well toward us. Go back again and tell her--"

"Pray, Fraulein," he interrupted, "let's keep to the point. That wolf in the sheep's clothing of humility, that vender of souls, who treated you so shamefully--"

"I'll neither see nor hear anything of him!" she exclaimed violently.

"I'd rather die, than be compelled to meet this man but for whom I--but pshaw, it's not worth while to get angry about it. I was a simple child, I believed everything I was told, now I no longer believe in anything, neither in heaven nor in h.e.l.l, only in the little s.p.a.ce here on earth, where I'll not allow my peace to be destroyed. Excuse me, sir, for receiving you so uncourteously but I'm not yet dressed and am going to Elysium--a concert and ball--we can't be young but once. If you want to know where the Herr Candidat lives--he no longer calls himself Lorinser, but has taken the name of Moser--there's his card, on which he wrote his address. He said his first visit was to me, that he still loved me and would prove it and provide for me. But as I said before, I'd rather jump out of the window than have anything more to do with the abominable scoundrel. Perhaps"--and she lowered her voice a moment--"perhaps there's some truth in the tales about the other world and the last judgment. But if I'm condemned, then I'll open my mouth and tell what I know; what I was, and what I have become, and through whom. Here, sir, here's the card, and now--"

She opened the door, bowed with an easy grace, and took leave of Mohr, who fluent of speech as he usually was, remained silent from deep compa.s.sion for the poor lost girl.