With the help of Herr Zittel she wrote out a telegram to Gerber. The answer, to be pre-paid, was to be sent to the General Agency of the Prudentia, and Eleanore was to go to the main office between eleven and twelve o’clock. She accompanied Herr Zittel to the front door, whereupon he said: “Do everything in your power to get the money. If the loss can be made good at once, Herr Diruf may be willing not to take the case to the courts.” Eleanore knew full well that it would be exceedingly difficult to get such a sum as this. Her father had no money in the bank; his employer had lost confidence in him because he could no longer exert himself; what he needed most of all was a rest. She entered the room with a friendly expression on her face, and remarked quite vivaciously: “Now, Father, we will wait and see what Benno has to say; and in order that you may not worry so much, I will read something nice to you.” Sitting on a hassock at her father’s feet she read from a recent number of the _Gartenlaube_ the description of an ascent of Mont Blanc. Then she read another article that her eye chanced to fall upon. All the while her bright voice was ringing through the room, she was struggling with decisions to which she might come and listening to the ticking of the clock. That her father no more had his mind on what she was reading than she herself was perfectly clear to her. Finally the clock struck eleven. She got up, and said she had to go to the kitchen to make the fire. A maid usually came in at eleven to get dinner for the family, but to-day she had not appeared. Out in the hall Eleanore took her straw hat, and hastened over to Gertrude’s as fast as her feet could carry her. Daniel was not at home; Gertrude was peeling potatoes. In three sentences Eleanore had told her sister the whole story. “Now you come with me at once! Go up and stay with Father! See that he does not leave the house! I will be back in half an hour!” Gertrude was literally dragged down the steps by Eleanore; before she could ask questions of any kind, Eleanore had disappeared. At the General Agency Herr Zittel met her with the reply from that Gerber, Benno’s friend. It bore Gerber’s signature, and read: “Benno Jordan has not been here.” Benjamin Dorn stood behind Herr Zittel; he displayed an expression of soft, smooth, dirge-like regret. “Herr Diruf would like to speak to you,” said Herr Zittel coldly. Eleanore entered Herr Diruf’s private office; her face was pale. He kept on writing for about three minutes before he took any notice of her. Then his plum-like eyes opened lazily, a rare, voluptuous smile sneaked out from under his moustache like a slothful flash of heat lightning; he said: “The sharper has gone and done it, hasn’t he?” Eleanore never moved. “Can the embezzled money be returned within twenty-four hours?” asked the pudgy, purple prince of pen-pushers. “My father will do everything that is humanly possible,” replied Eleanore anxiously.