"Yes, but murder and suicide are also not agreeable matters. Think of it until to-morrow. Good-night, my dear count," and without looking around he left the room, and was shown to his bedchamber. "To the devil with all this sentimentality!" he thought; and yet, though he was far from being sentimental, it was a good long time before he got to sleep.
The sun was high in the heavens when he awoke. The clock indicated ten. He dressed quickly, and rang for the servant, who told him the count had inquired for him repeatedly. The doctor had left, and the invalid was still asleep.
A few minutes after, and the magistrate stood before his host. Agenor looked ill and suddenly old. "I wish to expedite this affair as much as possible. When can the man be here?"
"Have you considered it thoroughly?"
"No hypocrisy! It fits your plans; you will be safe for life. You knew perfectly well that a drowning man would clutch at the blade of a sword. Your carriage is waiting. How much do you want, and when can the man be here?"
Herr von Wroblewski could be laconic when occasion required. "Ten thousand gulden! To-morrow!"
The count wrote a check, and handed it to the magistrate. He read it carefully, nodded, put it into his pocket, and left the room without bow or farewell word.
CHAPTER VII.
Raphael returned from his sad walk as he had started, pale, rigid, and upright. There was not only pity, but even admiration for him in the minds of all, for he gave no heed to his own sorrow and fatigue; he thought only of the wants of others. He called together all the poor to whom his father had been a benefactor, and told them only the giver was changed, not the gift. And to none of those humble and afflicted ones was he more friendly and pitiful than to the old woman who had entered his presence with a fainting heart, Miriam Gold, whose daughter had become a Christian. "Do not tremble, Miriam!" he said. "Such disgrace may be incurred innocently."
This was his own consolation in the first hours of terrible suffering which he had to undergo after his filial duties were ended. He would crouch down in a corner of the death-chamber and keep vigil for the dead, staring into the dim light of the "soul-lamp," and think of the way in which his presentiments had been realized, and the warnings he had vainly given.