"Beware! beware!" gasped the other. "There is something wrong--very wrong. Yesterday Golm throws half a million into the market; I keep up the price notwithstanding to thirty; this morning that abominable speech of Lasker's--down they go to twenty; this afternoon I have to pay Giraldi every farthing of the Golm mortgage. I have struggled, I am struggling still desperately, but there are limits to everything."
"It is very hard," said the Councillor, sighing. "Our splendid, splendid enterprise! The Minister, too, was quite in despair to-day; but--shall we not go upstairs? We can go on with our conversation there. I have several things of importance to communicate to you."
"Hush!" said Lübbener.
He stood listening intently, then walked quickly to the big window from which he could see out of the cloak-room into the vestibule, shook his head and came back to the Councillor, muttering unintelligibly between his pale lips.
"What is the matter now?" said the Councillor anxiously.
The banker's little black eyes glanced towards the servants in the cloak-room. They could hear nothing, and were moreover occupied in arranging their numbers; then he made the Councillor a sign to stoop his tall figure to him.
"I ought to have consulted you properly, but the danger that he"--the banker pointed with his finger in the direction from which the noise of the ball came--"was too great. Our four millions preference shares which would have to be issued now--"
"Good heavens!" said the Councillor.
"It was a mere vague suspicion, but it left me no peace. He and I, you know, have the keys, and when after the office was shut, I told the clerk I had some business still to do--true enough"--the Councillor had bent his head so low that the banker was whispering into his ear. Then they looked fixedly into each other's eyes. The Councillor's long face had turned as grey as the other's.
"But this is a matter for the police," he said.