"Hush!" said Lübbener. He stood listening intently, then walked quickly to the big window from which he could see out of the cloak-room into the vestibule, shook his head and came back to the Councillor, muttering unintelligibly between his pale lips. "What is the matter now?" said the Councillor anxiously. The banker's little black eyes glanced towards the servants in the cloak-room. They could hear nothing, and were moreover occupied in arranging their numbers; then he made the Councillor a sign to stoop his tall figure to him. "I ought to have consulted you properly, but the danger that he"--the banker pointed with his finger in the direction from which the noise of the ball came--"was too great. Our four millions preference shares which would have to be issued now--" "Good heavens!" said the Councillor. "It was a mere vague suspicion, but it left me no peace. He and I, you know, have the keys, and when after the office was shut, I told the clerk I had some business still to do--true enough"--the Councillor had bent his head so low that the banker was whispering into his ear. Then they looked fixedly into each other's eyes. The Councillor's long face had turned as grey as the other's. "But this is a matter for the police," he said. An evil smile crossed the banker's compressed lips. "It has cost me a great deal of trouble to convince them of it." "So then----" The banker nodded. "And when?" "I expect them every minute. They wanted me to show myself here, because my remaining away altogether--" "Quite right! Quite true!" said the Councillor. "It is very, very painful--still--I will certainly--under these circumstances----" And he made a step towards the cloakroom table. "Councillor, you will not," cried Lübbener, holding fast by his coat-tail. At this moment a tremendous flourish of trumpets sounded in the vestibule. The servants rushed from behind their table to the window. The pretty girls who had been waiting upon the ladies ran past them; "They are coming, they are coming." The two gentlemen had also gone to the window, as the flourish sounded a second time, from long trumpets, which eight men dressed as heralds were blowing on the broad landing of the staircase. They turned their instruments upwards to right and left, as if to summon the assembly from above. And in fact they had scarcely uttered their call for the third time, before the company, who had been prepared beforehand, began to appear. A splendid sight, whose magnificence even the Councillor, in spite of his thoughts being full of anxiety and care, could not but allow, whilst the servants broke out into loud cries of admiration; only Herr Lübbener's grey countenance kept the look of a man who is too much behind the scenes to take much pleasure in the play himself.