"But can he do any thing?" he anxiously inquired, "in spite of—you know what." He held out his great fingers, and made confidential signs with them. "First and middle finger—it was a great misfortune, sir."

Eugene now called to mind the unlucky accident. "He has got over it," said he, rather embarrassed at the part the paternal affections of the giant made him play. "I came here to ask a favor."

"A favor?" laughed Sturm; "ask away, young baron; that is a simple matter. Any one from the house where my Karl is bailiff has a right to ask a favor from old Sturm. That is my view of the case."

"Well, then, Mr. Sturm, to make a long story short, I am called upon to make a heavy payment to-morrow, and I want the money for it. The debt has come upon me suddenly, and I have no time to communicate with my father. I know no one in this town to whom I can turn with so much confidence as to the father of our bailiff."

Sturm bent forward, and in his delight clapped the officer on the knee. "That was nobly said. You are a gentleman, who keeps to his own house, and does not go to strangers for what he can have from his own people. You want money? My Karl is bailiff at your father the baron's; my Karl has some money, so it is all right. How much do you want? A hundred dollars? Two hundred dollars? The money is there."

"I can hardly take courage, Mr. Sturm, to tell you the amount of the sum," said Eugene, embarrassed; "it is nineteen hundred dollars."

"Nineteen hundred dollars!" repeated the giant, in amazement; "that's a capital; that's a firm; that's what people call a fortune."

"So it is, Mr. Sturm," said Eugene, sadly. "And since you are so friendly toward me, I must own to you that I am heartily grieved that it should be so much. I am ready to give you a note of hand for it, and to pay any interest you may like."

"Do you know what," said Sturm, after some cogitation, "we will say nothing about the interest; you can settle that with my Karl; but as to the note of hand, that was a good thought of yours. A note of hand is pleasant, on account of the chances of life and death. You and I would have no need of such a thing; but I may die before my time. That would not matter, for you, who know of the transaction, would still be there. But then you might die, which, however, I have no fear of—quite the contrary; but still such a thing might be, and then my Karl ought to have your signature, so that he might come forward and say, 'My poor young master has written this, therefore pay.'"

"You will then have the kindness to lend me the money?"