He ordered the bottle of wine, and ran off into the street like a dog in scent of game. Meanwhile Ehrenthal, his hat still on, his hands behind his back, walked up and down, nodding his head, and looking in the twilight like an ugly ghost who once has had his head cut off and can not now keep it steadily on. As Veitel went on his way, his mind kept working much as follows: "What can be in the wind? It must be an important affair, and I am to know nothing about it! I am to send Pinkus. Pinkus was with Ehrenthal a few days ago, and the next morning he went to Baron Rothsattel's place in the country; so it must have something to do with the baron. And now, as to these letters. If I could catch the clerk who takes them to the post, and contrive to read the directions, I should save money. But how manage this? Well, I must find out some way or other." And, accordingly, Veitel posted himself at the door, and soon saw a young man rush out with a packet of letters in his hand. He followed him, and, turning sharply round a corner, contrived to meet him. Touching his hat, "You are from Councilor Horn's office?" "Yes," said the clerk, in a hurry to get on. "I am from the country, and have been waiting for three days for an important letter from the councilor; perhaps you may have one for me." "What is your name?" said the clerk, looking at him mistrustfully. "Bernhard Madgeburg, of Ostrau," said Veitel; "but the letter may be addressed to my uncle." "There is no letter for you," replied the clerk, hurriedly glancing at the directions. Do what he would, Veitel's eyes could not follow this rapid shuffling, so he seized the packet, and while the enraged official, catching hold of him, exclaimed, "What are you about, man! how dare you?" he devoured the directions, gave back the letters, and touching his hat, coolly said, "Nothing for me; do not lose the post; I am going to the councilor," turned on his heel and made his escape. Spite of this bold stroke, he could only remember two or three of the addresses. "Perhaps I have made my money," thought he; "and if not, there's no time lost." So he went back, and, creeping to the office door, stood and listened. The worthy Pinkus was speaking, but very low, and Veitel could make little of it. At last, however, the voices grew louder. "How can you ask such a large sum!" cried Ehrenthal, angrily; "I have been mistaken in thinking you a trustworthy man." "I am trustworthy," replied Pinkus; "but I must have four hundred dollars, or this affair will fall through." "How dare you say it will fall through? What do you know about it?" "I know this much, that I can get four hundred dollars from the baron by telling him what I know," screamed Pinkus. "You are a rascal! You are a traitor! Do you know who it is that you use thus? I can ruin your credit, and disgrace you in the eyes of all men of business." "And I can show the baron what sort of a man you are," cried Pinkus, with equal vehemence.