Soon, too, various very doubtful personages appear at the door of the Rockhammer mill, people with whom one does not like to come into contact; such as the corn-usurer. Lob Levi from Beelitzhof, and the common butcher Hoffman from Gruenehalde; they present yellow, greasy little papers which bear his brother's signature and turn out to be promissory notes with such and such interest for so many days. Martin stares for a long time at the unsteady hand-writing; where the strokes are all tumbling over as if drunk, then he goes to his safe and, without a word, pays the debts as well as the usurious interest. How gladly he would give the half of his fortune, could he buy his brother's return therewith! At length he has the horses put to the carriage and himself sets out in quest. He drives miles away; he is about whole nights through, but never does he succeed in getting hold of his brother. The information he receives from the inn-keepers is scanty and confused--some answer him with awkward prevarication, others with sly attempts at concealment--they all seem to guess that their rich profits will go to the devil as soon as the owner of the Rockhammer mill once more gets possession of his scape-grace brother. When Martin begins to notice that he is being taken in, he loses heart. He has the carriage put up in the coach-house and locks himself in for several days in his "office." During that time he is gravely considering whether it would be advisable to secure the service of the Marienfeld gendarmes. For him, of course, by virtue of his official authority, it would be an easy matter to extort the truth from these people. Yet no!--it would hardly be compatible with the honor of the Rockhammer family to have his brother hunted for by the police--why it would make his old father turn in his grave! A cold, brought on by his nocturnal expeditions, throws him upon the sickbed. Through two terrible weeks Trude sits by day and by night at his bedside, tortured by his delirious ravings in which his two brothers, the dead and the living one, now singly, now together, transformed to one horrible two-headed monster, haunt and encircle him. As soon as he is halfway convalescent, he has the carriage got ready. _Some_ time he must find him! And he does find him. Late one evening at the beginning of September, his road happens to pass through B----, a village two miles north of Marienfeld. Through the closed shutters of the tavern boisterous noises reach his ears--stamping of feet, brawling and drunken singing. Slowly he gets out of the carriage, and ties up his horse at the entrance to the inn. The lantern flickers dimly in the night wind--heavy drops of rain come pelting down. The handle of the taproom door rattles in his hand; one push--it flies open wide. Thick, bluish-yellow tobacco fumes assail him as he enters, mixed with the odor of stale beer and foul-smelling spirits.