"Yes, pray stay, my dear Count," said Capriani, who must have heard Fritz's words, or had understood his gesture. "I knew that I should meet you here, but what I have to arrange with our friend, Malzin, might as well be discussed before a hundred witnesses. I am really glad to see you again--our last conversation came to so sudden a termination," and the Conte familiarly held out his hand to the young man. Oswald measured him from head to foot with a haughty glance, and put his hand in his pocket. Then leaning his elbow upon the high back of Fritz's easy-chair, he stood motionless while Capriani angrily pushed a chair near to the table and sat down. "So, my dear Malzin, you are off for Gleichenberg," he began, with his left thumb stuck into the arm-hole of his waistcoat, and his right hand resting on the roll of parchment on his knee. Oswald's gaze was fixed with a strange curiosity upon the face of the stock-gambler; all the loathsome ideas which had sullied his soul of late recurred to him; how disgraceful, nay how ridiculous his foul suspicions seemed when confronted with the flesh and blood Capriani. Meanwhile the Conte, irritated to the last degree by the young Count's cold stare, continued, "You must, of course, be desirous of settling your affairs, Malzin, before your departure. Under present circumstances you ought to be glad to be able to provide for the future of your children." "Certainly; I have discussed it fully with my relatives," murmured Fritz, trembling with agitation, and clasping his thin hands on the table. "Discussed?--that can lead to nothing," Capriani asserted, "I see, I see, the same loose way of attending to business. A matter of such importance ought to be definitely settled. It is time for you to listen to reason, as regards that vault; of course we all hope that you will return from Gleichenberg sound and well, but we must be prepared for the worst. If you close your eyes to this you leave your children unprovided for, and you, you alone will be to blame, seeing that by merely executing this deed of sale for that burial-vault--downright rubbish--you will receive the extremely handsome and liberal sum of thirty thousand gulden. Now, pray be reasonable." The Conte spread the parchment out on the table before Fritz, dipped a pen in the ink, and handed it to him. The tears came into the wretched man's eyes. "My poor children!" he groaned and took the pen. On the instant Oswald snatched the fateful parchment from the table, and threw it on the floor; "You shall not sign it, Fritz!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse with indignation; then turning to the Conte, he said sharply, "You see that my cousin is not equal to the excitement of an interview like the present. May I beg you to leave us?" The Conte sprang up, his breath came in quick gasps, and a dark menace shot from the eyes that he rivetted upon the young man's face. "May I beg you to leave the room," Oswald repeated with icy disdain.