This strong moral indignation on the part of Ehrenthal threw a ray of joy into the baron's soul. "I, too, have reason to consider Pinkus a dangerous man," said he.
But this agreement in opinion proved unlucky, diverting, as it did, Ehrenthal's anger against the baron instead. "Why do I speak of Pinkus?" he screamed; "he has acted as a man of his stamp will act. But you—you, who are a nobleman, how could you deal so with me? You have carried on money transactions with another man behind my back, and you have, in a short time, let him win three thousand dollars on a bill of exchange—a bill of exchange," continued he; "do you know what that means?"
"I wish that the debt had not been necessary," said the baron; "but as it falls due to-day, and the man will not wait, the question is how we are to pay him."
"What do you mean by we?" cried Ehrenthal, hastily. "You must contrive to pay; you must see where you can get money for the man you have helped to pocket three thousand dollars; you did not consult me when you gave the bill; you need not consult me as to how you are to pay it."
In the baron's soul a contest between wrath and wretchedness was going on. "Moderate your language, Mr. Ehrenthal," cried he.
"Why should I be moderate?" screamed he. "You have not been moderate, nor Pinkus either, and neither will I."
"I will call again," said the baron, "when you have regained that degree of decorum which, under all circumstances, I must beg you to observe toward me."
"If you want money from me, don't call again, baron," cried Ehrenthal. "I have no money for you; I would rather throw my dollars in the street than pay you one other."
The baron silently retired. His wretchedness was great; he had to bear the insults of the plebeian. Next, he went round to all his acquaintances, and endured the torment of asking on all sides for money, and on all sides having it refused. He returned to his lodgings, and was considering whether it were best to try Ehrenthal again, or to attempt to postpone the payment of the bill by offering usurious interest, when, to his surprise, a strange figure, that he had only seen once or twice before, entered his apartments, with a haggard face, surrounded by red hair, two sly eyes, and a grotesque expression about the mouth, such as one sees on laughing-masks at Carnival time.
Veitel bowed low, and began: "Most gracious baron, have the condescension to forgive my coming to you on matters of business. I have a commission from Mr. Pinkus, empowering me to receive the money for the bill of exchange. I would most humbly inquire whether you will be so gracious as to pay it me?"