Bertram had in fact had a most fatiguing walk; he was very weary, but nevertheless he tossed restlessly upon his bed. There was no sleep there for him,--he started up whenever the sound of gay laughter from the balcony reached his ears, only to bury his head again among the pillows to shut out if possible the hateful noise.
And even late in the night when all was still, when nothing stirred in the rooms on either side of him, and he knew that Eva, as well as Aline and Uncle Balthasar, had retired for the night, sleep fled his eyelids.
He thought with horror of his future. What would become of him if that demon Paul Delmar should reveal to Eva her entire right to recall her promise? He could not return to K----, where his debts were immense and his honour and credit both gone. How should he even live from day to day?
His property, which had been considerable, he had squandered in the wildest dissipations; his creditors had abstained from resorting to extreme measures only in the hope which he had held out to them of his marriage with the wealthy heiress. If his engagement with Eva were broken, nothing could keep him from their clutches should he attempt to return to K----. The moisture stood in cold drops upon his forehead as a vision of his probable future rose distinctly before him. A jail and the disgraceful habit of a convict were all he had to look for. The check with Count Waldheim's forged signature was in Delmar's possession, and unfortunately it was not the only witness to be brought against him. A well-known usurer in K---- possessed similar papers, having been easily induced over Count Waldheim's name to furnish Bertram with a large sum of money for the liquidation of a pressing gaming debt.
With the recklessness of a thorough gamester, Bertram had lived along from day to day in the hopes of winning Eva's hand. To escape dishonour he had become a forger; to cover one counterfeit check he had drawn up another for a larger sum. Delmar had helped him upon one occasion,--he had not dared to apply to him again; and so he had gone on plunging deeper into debt and disgrace, until he saw no means of escape save by a marriage with Eva.
A jail! Horrible thought! There was no sacrifice he would not make to escape such a fate. Once in a feverish vision of so frightful a future there had risen in his excited fancy the thought of a certain casket, in which Eva kept her most valuable jewels, diamonds, and ready money; but he had rejected this thought with horror. Now it recurred to him again. He knew the casket well; it was of ebony, with Eva's monogram inlaid in gilt on the lid. He had helped to pack it into the travelling-carriage when they had left K----, for Eva took it with her wherever she went; it was dear to her as her dead father's gift.
Just before leaving her home Eva had opened it in his presence to put in a large sum of money designed for travelling expenses, and he had admired the brilliancy and size of the diamonds it contained. He had asked his betrothed why she took such valuable jewels with her upon a tour among the mountains, and had received for a reply that she never left them behind her when she went from K----, since the casket with the diamonds was her father's last gift to her, and she was nervous lest it might be stolen if she did not have it with her.
As he now tossed restlessly in bed, the ebony casket, with the glittering diamonds and the large roll of notes, recurred to Bertram's mind. What might be the possible value of the diamonds? Uncle Balthasar had mentioned that his brother had paid more than ten thousand thalers for them in Berlin. Besides the diamonds the casket contained other jewels, worth at least several thousand more, and then the money. Bertram did not know how much there was, but the bundle of large notes was thick, and there were two or three packets of gold besides. There must have been several thousand thalers,--a trifle for Eva, the wealthy heiress, but a treasure for one who looked forward to a jail as his only future.
Physical exhaustion at last overcame him; his eyes closed and he sank into an uneasy slumber, in which his dreams were still of the ebony casket and its contents. He dreamed that Eva gave it to him. He counted the money: it amounted to a huge sum. He took up the diamonds, and was just feeding his gaze upon their lustre, when Leo von Heydeck snatched them from his hand. He turned and grappled with him; but just as he would have overthrown his foe he felt himself in Delmar's iron grasp, and heard his sneering voice cry, "To jail with the scoundrel, he stole both money and diamonds!" In his struggle to free himself he awoke.
Trembling in every limb, he sat up in bed and looked about the room, which was lit up by the pale moonlight. It was some minutes before he could recover from the effects of his feverish dream, and he could not rid himself of the thought of the ebony casket. Eva had it in her room upon a table beside her bed; at least it had been there on the previous morning, for he had noticed and recognized it as he passed by the open door of her room.