So he said he would use two hundred of it, for his house was good enough security for that, and would put the rest at interest till the rightful owner came for it; and on our side we must sign a paper showing how he got the money – a paper to show to the villagers as proof that he had not got out of his troubles dishonestly.

 

 

Chapter 3

It made immense talk next day, when Father Peter paid Solomon Isaacs in gold and left the rest of the money with him at interest. Also, there was a pleasant change: many people called at the house to congratulate, and a number of cool old friends became kind and friendly again; and to top all, Marget was invited to a party.

And there was no mystery; Father Peter told the whole circumstance just as it happened, and said he could not account for it, only it was the plain hand of Providence, so far as he could see. One or two shook their heads and said privately it looked more like the hand of Satan; and really that seemed a surprisingly good guess for ignorant people like that. Some came slyly buzzing around and tried to coax us boys to come out and ›tell the truth;‹ and promised they wouldn't ever tell, but only wanted to know for their own satisfaction, because the whole thing was so curious. They even wanted to buy the secret, and pay money for it; and if we could have invented something that would answer – but we couldn't; we hadn't the ingenuity, so we had to let the chance go by, and it was a pity.

We carried that secret around without any trouble, but the other one, the big one, the splendid one, burnt the very vitals of us, it was so hot to get out and we so hot to let it out and astonish people with it. But we had to keep it in; in fact it kept itself in: Satan said it would, and it did. We went off every day and got to ourselves in the woods, so that we could talk about Satan, and really that was the only subject we thought of or cared anything about; and day and night we watched for him and hoped he would come, and we got more and more impatient all the time. We hadn't any interest in the other boys any more and wouldn't take part in their games and enterprises. That kind of boys seemed so tame, after Satan; and their doings so trifling and commonplace after his adventures in antiquity and the constellations, and his miracles and meltings and explosions and all that.

During the first day we were in a state of anxiety, on account of one thing, and we kept going to Father Peter's house on one pretext or another, to keep track of it. That was the gold coin; we were afraid it would crumble and turn to dirt, like fairy money. If it did... but it didn't. At the end of the day no complaint had been made about it; so after that we were satisfied that it was real gold, and dropped the anxiety out of our minds.

There was a question which we wanted to ask Father Peter, and finally we went there the second evening, a little diffidently, after drawing straws, and I asked it, as casually as I could, though it did not sound as casual as I wanted, because I did not know how –

»What is the moral sense, sir?«

He looked down surprised, over his great spectacles, and said –

»Why, it is the faculty which enables us to distinguish good from evil.«

It threw some light, but not a glare, and I was a little disappointed, also in some degree embarrassed. He was waiting for me to go on; so, in default of anything else to say, I asked –

»Is it valuable?«

»Valuable! Heavens, lad, it is the one thing that lifts man above the beasts that perish and makes him heir to immortality!«

This did not remind me of anything further to say, so I got out, with the other boys, and we went away with that kind of indefinite sense you have often had of being filled but not fatted. They wanted me to explain, but I was tired.

We passed out through the parlor, and there was Marget at the spinet teaching Marie Lueger. So one of the deserting pupils was back; and an influential one, too: the others would follow. Marget jumped up and ran and thanked us again, with the tears in her eyes – this was the third time – for saving her and her uncle from being turned into the street, and we told her again we hadn't done it; but that was her way, she never could be grateful enough for anything a person did for her; so we let her have her say. And as we passed through the garden, there was Wilhelm Meidling sitting there waiting, for it was getting toward the edge of the evening, and he would be asking Marget to take a walk along the river with him when she was done with the lesson. He was a young lawyer, and succeeding fairly well and working his way along, little by little. He was very fond of Marget, and she of him. He had not deserted along with the others, but had stood his ground all through, although it had injured him in people's esteem and made his business fall off more or less. His faithfulness was not lost on Marget and her uncle. He hadn't so very much talent, but he was handsome and good, and these are a kind of talents themselves and help along. He asked us how the lesson was getting along, and we told him it was about done. And maybe it was so; we didn't know anything about it, but we judged it would please him, and it did; and didn't cost us anything.

On the fourth day comes Father Adolf home from the ancient priory up the valley, where he had heard the news, I reckon. He had a private talk with us, and was very much interested, and we told him all about it. He sat there studying and studying a while to himself, then he asked –

»How many ducats did you say?«

»Eleven hundred and seven, sir.«

Then he said, as if he was talking to himself –

»It is ve-ry singular. Yes... very strange. A cu-rious coincidence.«

Then he began to ask questions, and went over the whole ground, from the beginning, we answering.