Autumn had come: the Feast of Tabernacles was over, and Betsy's wedding once more brought back the spirit of fun and frolic to the village. According to the Hebrew ritual, the marriage was performed on the highroad, under a spreading baldachin. The fanners--always glad of an excuse to be idle--gathered around with open mouths: Florian and Schlunkel were both among them. The latter pulled his former comrade by the sleeve, whispering that he had something important to tell him; and when the ceremony was over he stole round the rear of the manor-house into the vaulted springhouse. Florian followed after some time, he knew not why.
Schlunkel came to meet him, saying, "Shake hands: we'll both be rich to-morrow." Without understanding him, Florian took his hand, saying, "How so?"
"Just this way," said Schlunkel, with a skip and a jump. "This morning Mendle's Meyer came home from the horse-market, where he sold all his horses. He must have brought at least seven or eight hundred florins home with him. I saw the belt: it looked like a liver-pudding. You know how to handle a liver-pudding, don't you? We'll slice this up tonight. A week ago the fire-committee had Meyer's bake-oven pulled down, because it was in the corner there. He had the hole walled up with brick. I helped to do it; and I laid one of the bricks so that you can just take it out with your hand. So to-night, when they're all at the wedding, we'll slip in and fetch the Jew's sausage."
"Not I," said Florian.
"Just as you please: you can get the money the commune offered you, if you like that better, and see how far it'll go."
"How do you know that?"
"I've got a little bird that told me: you fool, all the swallows in the chimneys are talking of it."
Florian stamped and bit his mustache. If he could have set fire to the village at that moment he would gladly have done so. He saw them all laughing at him, pitying him: the goal of his ambition--the veneration of the community--had fallen to ashes. At last he was ready for any thing. The enormity of the crime proposed never occurred to him for a moment. As honor was lost, he would go away laden with booty. Like one awaking from sleep, he said,--
"I'm in for it. What time?"
"About eight o'clock, I guess."