“The house of Ehlert, in Amsterdam, has failed; the principal has fled with the coffers; the notes for eighty thousand dollars were protested, and you, baron, must pay this sum to-day, or declare yourself a bankrupt, and go to prison for debt.”
Instantaneously a suppressed cry and a laugh were heard. Ebenstreit sank upon a seat, concealing his pallid face with his hands, while Marie stood at his side, her face beaming with joy.
“I am lost, I do not possess the eighth part of that sum! I cannot pay it. I must submit, for there are no further means to prevent it.”
“No,” replied Marie, with haughty tranquillity, “you have no further means to prevent it. The rich banker Ebenstreit will leave this house, no longer his own, to enter the debtor’s prison poor as a beggar—nay, worse, a defrauder!”
“Oh, how cruel you are!” groaned Ebenstreit.
“Did you say, baroness, that this house is no longer his?” asked Splittgerber, alarmed.
“No,” she triumphantly cried. “It belongs to me, and all that is in it—the pictures, statues, silver, diamonds, and pearls. Oh, I am still a rich woman!”
“And do you mean to retain this wealth if your husband becomes bankrupt? Do you not possess a common interest?” asked Splittgerber.
“No, thank Heaven, the community of interest was given up a year since,” cried Ebenstreit, joyfully. “Baroness von Ebenstreit is the lawful possessor of this house and furniture. I was not so indiscreet as you supposed. I have at least secured this to my wife, and she will be a rich woman even if I fail, and will not let me starve. I shall divide about ten per cent with my creditors, but my wife will be rich enough for us both.”
“This gives me to understand that you intend to make a fraudulent bankruptcy. You have settled every thing upon your wife to save yourself from the unhappy consequences of your failure. You will still be a rich man if your wife should sell her house, works of art, diamonds, gold and silver service, and equipages.”