"That is all right, Ehrenthal," said the baron, more graciously; "and I am glad that the case stands thus. But, had this man been the bankrupt in question, I should have broken off our connection, and should never have forgiven you for involving me in a fraudulent transaction." Ehrenthal bowed himself out, muttering, as he went down stairs, "He's a good man, this baron; a good, good man." CHAPTER VII. We now return to Anton, who had been placed under the joint command of Messrs. Jordan and Pix, and who found himself the small vassal of a great body corporate, containing a variety of grades and functions little dreamed of by the uninitiated. First in the counting-house was the book-keeper Liebold, who, as minister of the home department, reigned supreme and solitary in a window of his own, forever recording figures in a colossal book, and seldom looking off their columns. In the opposite part of the room ruled the second dignitary in the state, the cashier Purzel, surrounded by iron safes, heavy bags, and with a large stone table before him, on which dollars rung, or gray paper money fell noiselessly the whole day through. Jordan was the principal person in the office. He was the head clerk, and his opinion was sometimes asked by the principal himself. In him Anton found, from the day of his arrival, a good adviser, and an example of activity and healthy common sense. Of all the clerks under Jordan's superintendence, the most interesting to Anton was Baumann, the future missionary. Not only was he a truly religious man, he was an admirable and infallible accountant. But, besides all these, the firm had some officials who did not live in the house. One was Birnbaum, the custom-house clerk, who was seldom visible in the office, and only dined with the principal on Sundays. Then there was the head of the warehouse department, Mr. Balbus, who, though by no means a cultivated man, was always treated by the chief with great respect; and, as Anton heard it said, had a mother and sick sister entirely dependent upon him.