The Landlord was still pacing the public room, looking very grave, and saying, with an air of dignity:—
"I must bear it like a man."
He very nearly said—"like a man of honour."
The Landlady bewailed and lamented; she had known nothing of it, and vowed that she would put an end to herself.
"Father-in-law," said Lenz, "may I ask if my money is all lost too?"
"In such a vast heap of money, it is not easy to distinguish to whom such or such a sum belongs," answered the Landlord, in a sententious voice. "I intend to arrange my affairs presently. If my creditors grant me three years, I will pay fifty per cent. Sit down, it's no use brandishing your hands in that way. Lisabeth," called he into the kitchen, "my dinner."
The cook brought in a capital dinner, the Landlord quickly pulled off his cap, said grace, and sinking comfortably into his easy chair, he helped himself plentifully, and ate with the calm of a true sage. When the second dish arrived, he looked up at his wife, and said:—
"You should also sit down; the best pair of horses to help you up a steep hill, is a slice of good solid meat. Have they sealed up all our wine, or can you get me some?"
"It is all sealed up."
"Then make me presently some good coffee, to refresh me."