Muchel received him very kindly and heartily as if to show that he considered it to be the duty of neighbours to cling to one another, and uphold one another in these bad times. He groaned over his wretched harvest, and complained loudly of the difficulties he was in for want of ready money, so that Alick found it impossible to urge his request and felt much ashamed of troubling a man, who was himself straightened, with the tale of his difficulties. But necessity is a hard master, and so he at last asked Pomuchelskopp why he had parted with his bills to those two usurers. Whereupon Muchel folded his hands across his stomach and looking compassionately at the young man, said: "Ah, Mr. von Rambow, I couldn't help it.--Look" and opening his desk he pointed to a drawer in which there were perhaps thirty pounds, "look that's all the money I have, and I must buy provisions for my cattle and labourers, and I thought you might perhaps have money by you."--Alick then asked him why he had not come to him himself.--"I couldn't do that," answered Muchel, "you know the proverb, 'Money binds strangers to each other, but it separates friends,' and you and I are friends." That was all very true, Alick replied, but the usurers had pressed him hard and he did not know where to turn for help. "Did they really?" cried Pomuchelskopp. "They oughtn't to have done that. I expressly stipulated that they shouldn't dun you. Of course you will renew the bills--it'll cost you a trifle, but that can't be helped under the circumstances." Alick knew that as well as he did, but he would not allow himself to be talked over this time, and passionately entreated Pomuchelskopp to help him with his credit if he could lend him no money. "Willingly," said Muchel, "but how? Who has money just now?" Alick asked whether Moses would not help. "I don't know him," was the answer, "I've never done any business with him. Your father found him useful, and you know him yourself, so I advise you to turn to him." That was the only comfort Alick could get; Pomuchelskopp slipped through his fingers like an eel, and when he rode home his thoughts were as gloomy and disagreeable as the evening itself. David and Slus'uhr came back. They dunned him in the most shameless manner, and when he told them that Pomuchelskopp was too hard up to help him, they refused to listen, and only demanded their money the more fiercely.