"You should have believed me when I told you that there was nothing to be done with bringing the water from that miserable spring. Twenty years ago you placed me at the head of this factory, and I think I have shown that I understand my business. It is a ruinous thing to conduct such a huge undertaking from a distance. I told you so when you got back the factory again, but you never believe what I say. If the business had been allowed to proceed as usual, we should have made a sure, although small, profit from it. But you were in such a devil of a hurry to make the capital yield a hundred per cent., because you were always afraid lest your ward should smell a rat and require her own again,--or lest she should marry, and you would have to render an account to some suspicious husband, who would be less forbearing even than Fräulein Ernestine. Therefore these giant speculations were set on foot, and everything was to be accomplished in the twinkling of an eye. I told you we had not sufficient sewerage for such an enormous enlargement. Then you never rested until that expensive drain was dug, and we very soon found that it had too little incline and the refuse all stuck fast in it. Then you thought we could carry it off by a stream of water turned into the drain. More money was spent, and again spent in vain. The dry summer had exhausted the spring,--it was always small, and now it has entirely disappeared. The large supply of raw material, not yet paid for, cannot be worked up, for the villagers are beginning to talk again of 'poisoning the springs,' and the drain has begun to leak. If the necessary amount of water cannot be procured, I shall be prosecuted, and then nothing will shield either you or me from discovery. The people already think it strange that the Italian gentleman, who pretended to buy the factory by your advice, has disappeared. It is whispered about that he is not the real owner, and Heaven only knows what it all means. We have, therefore, more need of caution than ever!
"There is nothing for it but to face the worst and continue the aqueduct to the forest,--then we shall be safe. Digging ditches and hunting for springs is of no use,--more money is frittered away so than in large undertakings. I do not know what cash you have on hand; if you have not enough to lengthen the aqueduct, in a few weeks you will be bankrupt. It will not be my fault!
"I have no more money for the workmen's wages,--and it would be well, now that work must be suspended for a time, to pay them up. It might keep them in good humour. I know that you will vent all your anger upon me again, but I tell you I will put up with nothing more. I was an honest man until you tempted me and made me your accomplice. Still, I have not played the rogue to you, my principal, although I have, more's the pity, made myself amenable to the law. You have gone on just like Herr Neuenstein, who became bankrupt too, because he would not listen to me; but he was an honourable man, and paid up every penny that he owed, so that he was not afraid to look any one in the face. If you fail, you drag down your ward, whose money you have been using, with you,--and me too,--poor devil that I am! There is truth in the proverb 'Ill-gotten gains never prosper.' God help me!
"Yours, etc.,
"Clemens Prücker,
"Overseer."
It was too much. "My child! my child! I have sinned, forged, embezzled, for your sake, in vain! Can you be sufficiently proud of such a father?" he moaned,--his head fell back in his chair, and he lost consciousness.
The day had dawned when he opened his eyes; the atmosphere was full of the disagreeable odour of the dying candles, his limbs were stiff and numb from his uneasy posture, and he was shivering with cold. When he tried to walk, his hands and feet were asleep, and he staggered like a drunken man. At last his eyes lighted upon the letters. He picked them up and went to his writing-table. There he put them away in a secret drawer, then drew forth a safe and investigated its contents. It contained certificates of stock and some rolls of ready money.
The sun shone brightly into the room, and still the pale man sat there counting and calculating. At last he put all the contents of the safe into a leather travelling-bag. Then he rang the bell and ordered the servant, who appeared, to have the carriage brought round and to pack up for him sufficient clothes to last during a journey of several days.
When he heard that his niece had arisen, he went to her. "Good-morning, Ernestine," said he. "How are you to-day?"