But she would not have done it, if she had known what awaited her. Pomuchel had previously, and at last on that very morning, held wise counsel with David and Slusuhr, and they were agreed in this conclusion: that it would be best for him to buy the estate of Axel, at private sale; "For" said Pomuchelskopp, "if it comes to an auction, they will put it up too high for me. Ah, how they would drive it up! the old nobility would come together, and some of them have a great deal of money,--and they stick to each other, like burs,--and they would pay his debts, if it came to the hammer, or buy it in for him."
"You must look out for them," said Slusuhr.
"No! no!" cried Pomuchelskopp. "If I can get it quietly, that is the best way. He is as mellow, as mellow as a rotten apple, and I know him, he never looks over the fence, he only reaches after the nearest thing, and if I offer him a good bit of money, enough to pay his debts and have a little left over, he will take it."
"You forget one thing," said the notary, "she is there still."
"Oh, she knows nothing about it," said Muchel. "Fortunate for us, else it would not have gone so far. She looked at me once,--when they had that fuss about the stolen money,--with a pair of eyes that I shall never forget, so long as I live."
"Well," said David, "what of that? she is a woman,--not such a woman as Frau Pomuchelskopp, for she is a dreadfully clever woman,--she is a noble lady, she knows a great deal about some things, and nothing at all about others. If he is mellow, well, she must be made mellow too."
David's advice prevailed; yes, when the poor lady should learn all, blow upon blow, then she must become pliable in their hands, then she would not oppose the sale of the estate; and it was decided that Pomuchelskopp should make a beginning, and the others should follow him, that very morning; they knew that Axel was not at home.
When the Frau von Rambow went down to Pomuchelskopp, he looked as gentle and compassionate as if he were a clergyman, come to condole with her upon her mother's death; he stretched out both hands with a cordial gesture, as if he would take her hand in his, and press it warmly. Not getting her hand, however, he folded his own together, and regarded her with such a fatherly expression, in his old fat eyes, as a crocodile assumes when he is just ready to cry.
He had come, he said, as an old friend, as a true neighbor, to speak with the Herr von Rambow; the business was very pressing, and since the young Herr was not at home, it was necessary that he should speak with the gracious lady. It would be a great grief to him, if he, as a neighbor, could not help, when there was such a misfortune in prospect as the public auction sale of Pumpelhagen.
Frida started back, exclaiming, "Sale of Pumpelhagen!"