"Yes, at any sacrifice," said Madame von Brandt. "You asked a hundred Louis d'ors for the letter; I have brought them with me; take them—now give me the letter."
The baron took the money and put it in his pocket.
"Well, the letter, let me have it quickly," said Madame von Brandt.
Pollnitz hunted through his pockets anxiously. "My God!" he cried, "this letter has wings. I know I put it in my pocket, and it has disappeared; perhaps like yourself I lost it in the saloon; I must hasten to seek it." He wished to go immediately, but Madame von Brandt held him back.
"Have the goodness to give me my money until you have found the letter," she cried, trembling with rage.
"Your money?" cried Pollnitz; "you gave me no money. Why do you keep me? allow me to go and seek this important letter." He tore himself from her and mingled with the crowd.
Madame von Brandt looked after him in speechless rage; she leaned against the wall, to prevent herself from falling.
Pollnitz laughed triumphantly. "This evening has brought me a thousand crowns, two hundred Louis d'ors, a splendid diamond pin, and the promise of a rich wife. I think I may be content. Through these intrigues I have enough to live on for months. I stand now high in the king's favor, and who knows, perhaps he may now give me a house, not the house in the Jager Street—that is, alas, no longer vacant. I see the king—I must hasten to him." Suddenly he heard his name called, and turning he saw a lady in a black domino, the hood drawn over her head, and her face covered with an impenetrable veil.
"Baron Pollnitz, a word with you, if you please," and slightly motioning with her hand, she passed before him. Pollnitz followed her, curious to know his last petitioner, but the dark domino covered her completely. They had now reached a quiet window; the lady turned and said:
"Baron Pollnitz, you are said to be a noble and gallant cavalier, and I am sure you will not refuse a lady a favor."