"Before I can consent, gracious lady," said he, "to your reposing in me such confidence as this, I must first inquire whether the baron has no relative or intimate friend to whom you could with less pain make such a communication. I pray you to remember that my own knowledge of business is but small, and my position not one to constitute me a proper counselor to the baron."
"I know no one," said the baroness, hopelessly. "It is less painful to me to tell you what I can not conceal, than to one of our own circle. Consider yourself a physician sent for to visit a patient. The baron has this morning told me some particulars of his present circumstances." And then she proceeded to relate what she had gathered as to the nature of his embarrassments, the danger in which the family property was placed, and the capital needed to take possession of the Polish estate.
"My husband," continued she, "has given me the key of his desk, and he wishes Eugene, with the help of a man of business, to go over his papers. I now request of you to make this examination together with my son. When you need explanations, I will try to obtain them from the baron. The question is now, whether you are inclined to undertake this trouble for us, who are only strangers."
"I am most willing to do so," earnestly replied Anton; "and I hope that the kindness of my principal will allow me the time needful for the purpose, if you do not consider it more advisable to depute the baron's experienced legal adviser to the task."
"There will be an opportunity of asking that gentleman's advice later," said the baroness.
Anton rose. "When do you wish to begin?"
"Immediately. I fear there is not a day to lose. I shall do all I can to help you look the papers over." She led Anton into the next room, called in Eugene, and unlocked the baron's desk. As she opened it she lost her self-command for a moment, and moving to the window, the quivering of the curtains betrayed the anguish that shook her fragile frame.
The mournful task began. Hour after hour passed. Eugene was in no condition to peruse any thing, but his mother reached letters and documents to Anton, and, though often obliged to desist a while, she bravely returned to the task. Anton placed the papers in order, and sought, by glancing over each, to arrive at least at a superficial view of the facts of the case.
It was evening, when the old servant opened the door in dismay, and called out, "He is there again." The baroness could not repress a slight scream, and made a gesture of aversion.
"I have told him that no one is at home, but he will not be dismissed; he makes such a noise on the steps. I can not get rid of him."