A stealthy step was heard at the door of the cabinet.
“Do you hear that timid rap?” asked the banker. “The rapper’s heart is at this moment in his knuckles. It is curious how men betray in trifles what at the time has possession of their feelings. The mere rapping gives a keen observer an insight into the heart of a person whom he does not as yet see. Listen—” Rapping again, still more stealthily and imploringly. “I must go and relieve the poor devil, whom nobody would suspect for a mighty leader. Now, Mr. Seraphin, Act the Second. Come in!”
The man who entered, attired in a dress coat and kids, was Erdblatt, a tobacco merchant, spare in person, and with restless, spering eyes. The millionaire greeted him coldly, then pointed him to the chair that had been occupied by Schwefel. The impression produced by the two hundred thousands on the man of tobacco was far more decided than in the case of the manufacturer of straw hats. Erdblatt was restless in his chair, and as the needle is attracted by the pole, so did Erdblatt’s whole being turn towards the money. His eyes glanced constantly over the paper treasures, and a spasmodic jerking seized upon his fingers. But he soon sat motionless and stiff, as if thunderstruck at Greifmann’s terrible words.
“Your substantial firm,” began the mighty man of money, after some few formalities, “has awaked in me a degree of attention which the ordinary course of business does not require. I have to-day received notice from an English banking-house that in a few days several bills first of exchange, amounting to sixty thousand florins, will be presented to be paid by you.”
Erdblatt was dumfounded and turned pale.
“The amount is not precisely what can be called insignificant,” continued Greifmann coolly, “and I did not wish to omit notifying you concerning the bills, because, as you are aware, the banking business is regulated by rigorous and indiscriminating forms.”
Erdblatt took the hint, turned still more pale, and uttered not a word.
“This accumulation of bills of exchange is something abnormal,” proceeded Greifmann with indifference. “As they are all made payable on sight, you are no doubt ready to meet this sudden rush with proud composure,” concluded the banker, with a smile of cold politeness.
But the dumfounded Erdblatt was far from enjoying proud composure. His manner rather indicated inability to pay and panic terror. “Not only is the accumulation of bills of exchange to the amount of sixty thousand florins something abnormal, but it also argues carelessness,” said he tersely. “Were it attributable to accident, I should not complain; but it has been occasioned by jealous rivalry. Besides, they are bills first of exchange—it is something never heard of before—it is revolting—there is a plot to ruin me! And I have no plea to allege for putting off these bills, and I am, moreover, unable to pay them.”
The banker shrugged his shoulders coldly, and his countenance became grave.