The carouse went on till break of day. The windows of the hotel shook with the laughter and noise, and the cellars ran empty, so that wine had to be fetched from elsewhere.... At six o'clock four carriages left the town. CHAPTER VII For several days heavy bales of cotton had been pouring into the factory. Adler, expecting a rise in the prices of raw material, had invested all his available money in the buying up of large quantities. Only part of it had so far been delivered. His calculations had not deceived him; a few days after the contract was signed the prices rose, and they were still rising. Adler declined the most advantageous offers for re-sale. He rubbed his hands with pleasure. This was the best stroke of business he had done for a long time, and he foresaw that, long before all his raw material had been made up, his capital would have been trebled. "I shall have finished with the mill soon," he said to himself. It was a strange thing--from the moment that he saw the goal of his wishes definitely before him, a hitherto unknown lassitude took possession of him. He was tired of the mill, and vaguely longed for other things. Sometimes he begged his son not to go out so much, to stay at home and talk to him of his travels. More and more often he would slip over to Pastor Boehme for a talk. "I am tired out," he said to him. "Gosławski's death and the riots in the factory stick in my throat like bones. Do you know that sometimes I even find myself envying your way of living. But that's all nonsense; it shows I am getting old." And as Gosławski, on whose grave the earth was still fresh, had counted the days, so the old mill-owner now counted the months of his stay at the mill. "By next July I ought to have made up all the cotton. In June I must announce the sale of the mill; in August at the latest they must pay up, for I don't give credit. In September I shall be free. I won't say anything to Ferdinand until the last moment. How pleased he will be! Then I shall invest the money and live on the interest; for the rascal would run through it in a few years' time, and then I should have to go and be foreman somewhere." His love for Ferdinand grew stronger and stronger, and he excused his obvious neglect of his father. "Why should I force the boy to work at the mill, when I am sick of it myself? And why should he care if I am longing for his company? He must have young people to amuse himself with; and my amusement is--work!"