“Yes, I have already thought of that, doctor. I was closeted with your town-council yesterday afternoon. I offered to build them a new iron bridge—have it all completed in forty days. You see I have peculiar advantages, for I am a large owner in the Phœnix Iron Bridge Works, in the Schuylkill Valley, Pennsylvania. I proposed to your town council to issue to me small notes, to the amount of fifty thousand dollars, receivable for all taxes and town dues of all kinds. I will endorse them myself, if necessary. With these I can pay the workmen.” “That is a capital idea, Frauenstein,” said the doctor; “but you won’t need to endorse them. Those notes will circulate perfectly. Everybody wants the bridge. It has been discussed seriously for over three years.” “When these notes come into the town treasury, it can burn them. They can easily be all redeemed and burnt in the course of a year, and your citizens will have their bridge without feeling the cost in the least.” “Kendrick & Burnham, the bankers,” said Clara, “are members of the council. They will of themselves turn the balance, for they know you will have a good deal of banking business, which they expect of course to do.” “Exactly,” said the count; “you see how all things work for our interest. I am promised an answer at their next meeting, which is to-morrow night.” Thus discussing the plans, the party drove to the edge of the forest; and as there was no road through it, they walked to the lake on the hill, following the course of a pretty brook that wound down through the woods, across the land, and emptied into the river. It was noon when they returned and drove to the spot where the temporary building for the brick-making was going up. As the carriage approached, the “boss” of the operations came forward and saluted the count with great deference. The count gave him his hand cordially and presented him to the rest of the party. “This is Mr. Stevens, Dr. Forest, with whom you will soon be better acquainted. He is a scientific man, as well as an accomplished artisan, and to him we look for the transformation of this sand into stone bricks.” Then the count presented him to the ladies separately, saying, “These are the heads of the firm of Dykes & Delano, Florists, of whom you have heard.” He had not, in fact, but did not confess that, as he took the offered hands of the ladies. “They will conduct the florist and nursery industry of our future social palace.” While the count was talking and listening to the conversation of the rest, his eyes were busy with the scene before him. There, on piles of lumber, on the ground, on carts, everywhere, the men, some alone, some in small groups, were seated, each one with a long, narrow tin pail or kettle, out of which they were eating their principal meal of the day. Frauenstein looked at Clara. There was an appeal in his eyes that she understood.