"He pondered upon what his numerous dear friends would say if he should suddenly vanish from Berlin, leaving no trace of his whereabouts. His fancy was excited. He made all sorts of plans for best putting an end to his wretched existence without causing an immediate report of his death to be spread abroad in Berlin.
"For the first time for years he was really entertained for a couple of hours, so great was his interest in the different schemes thus contemplated. Forthwith he proceeded to the carrying out of his resolve. He drew from his father's bank a considerable sum of money, that his friends might be led quite astray as to his disappearance, called upon several acquaintances, showed himself at the theatre, and left Berlin by the night-train.
"Some years previously, in a summer excursion, he had noticed a charming forest in the neighbourhood of Wilhelmshagen. He remembered that one might wander there for hours and find no thoroughfare.
"In this forest he determined to search out a secluded spot, where his body might lie undiscovered for weeks. This plan he pursued. Was he not Fortune's favourite? He saw no one whom he knew at the railway-station. He made his journey entirely alone, in a first-class carriage, and, reaching Wilhelmshagen in the early morning, entered the forest without meeting a human being. Every trace of him was lost, no one could surmise what had become of him. For some hours he wandered about until he found a spot suitable for his purpose. Here he lay down upon the grass, and once more passed in mental review his entire wearisome, frustrated existence, it seemed to him so forlorn and pitiable that he was but confirmed in his resolution. He was about to carry it into effect, he had in fact raised his revolver for the purpose, when he heard a hymn sung near at hand. He dropped his hand, and--the rest you know. This is the history of Fritz Fortune. How do you like it, my worthy Pigglewitch?"
Gottlieb stared at the narrator with unutterable astonishment in his prominent eyes. "And is that all?" he asked, thinking it impossible that he had heard the end of the tale.
"Do you wish for more? As I told you, my story is brief, but edifying."
"Were you then going to shoot yourself out of mere ennui, Herr Fortune? It is inconceivable, impossible! I am almost always bored, especially when I am alone, but it never occurred to me to shoot myself upon that account. How can such an idea enter the head of any one who has money?"
A bitter smile hovered about Fortune's lips. "That precisely the view of the mass of mankind," he said. "Whoever has money must be happy, and the silly fools rush after wealth, never perceiving that there is no greater misery than what they call happiness. If I were poor, if I had to strive and contrive for a pittance for my daily bread, if I had a single aim in life worth attaining, I too might perhaps endure existence. This thought occurred to me while you were telling your story, and I suddenly fancied that I should like to try whether existence under your circumstances could make the burden of life supportable. Should it prove as devoid of interest, as tiresome and insufferable as my former existence, I can always have recourse to my faithful revolver. I will make you an offer, friend Pigglewitch. If you accept it, it will help us both, you perhaps forever, myself at least for a while, but that is not your affair. The dearest wish of your heart at present is to be able to pay your uncle his money, and to gain as quickly as possible the five hundred thalers to enable you to follow your Annemarie to America. Are you willing to make a sacrifice to accomplish this end?"
"Any, every sacrifice!" Pigglewitch cried, eagerly. "Ask what you will of me, it shall be done."
"I will not ask much. You shall have the round sum of three thousand five hundred marks--just enough to pay your uncle, replace your patrimony, and take you to America--if you will give me, to dispose of as I may see fit, your beautiful name of Gottlieb Pigglewitch, with the necessary articles and documents thereto belonging,--to wit, your testimonials, credentials, letter of introduction to Osternau, etc., and, above all, your beautiful black suit, which fits you so admirably,--promising also to go direct from here to Wilhelmshagen, whence you can send your uncle his money, and whence you promise to take the next train, by way of Berlin, to Bremen, where you will embark in the first vessel bound for America, and all this without revealing to a living soul the occurrences of the last two days."