“Oh yes, fortune comes when we have no longer need of her.”
He drew a roll of money from his vest pocket, and threw it upon the table.
“Gold!” exclaimed the old man.
Theodore produced a flask from the pocket of his cloak. “You have drunk no wine,” he said, “in a long while! Here is some, the best of Johannisberger! Let us greet the New year with revel!”
The old man turned away with a shudder, for recollections of pain were associated with the time.
The youth took a couple of glasses from the cupboard, drew another chair to the table, and sat down while he uncorked the flask. As he filled the glasses, a rich fragrance floated through the room.
He drank to the old man, who responded; and the glasses were replenished.
“Ha, ha! you seem used to it!” cried Theodore, laughing. “It is good for you. Wine is better than Lethe; it teaches us not to forget pain, but to know it the frivolous thing it really is. What a pity that we find the philosopher’s stone only in the bottom of the cup!”
“And how, I pray, came you by such luck?”
“I sold my work to a spendthrift lord, travelling through the city.”