“Ah!  Fabian, that is the true spirit.  You at last understand how happy you are.”

“Yes, as happy as the condemned sinner,” sighed Fabian; but in such a manner that his wife heard the first word only.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE FESTIVAL.

The next morning, when Gottlieb awoke, he discovered that he had a visitor even at that early hour of the day.  His uncle Fabian was pacing backward and forward at the side of his nephew’s bed, with a countenance so wretched and woe begone, that Gottlieb could not but pity him.

“Good morning, uncle,” said Gottlieb, cheerfully, “how is your health?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Your voice sounds just as if I was a robber demanding your purse or your life.  What is the matter?”

“That which you told me yesterday makes your comparison very apt.”

“You are mistaken.  It is not my intention to play the part of the famous Rinaldo Rinaldini.  I am the most peaceable person in the world, and if you wish to remain at peace at home—­which is very natural, you know—­I have no desire to prevent you from doing so.”

“But, perhaps, you intend to demand from me three times the sum of money necessary to fee a lawyer, to bribe you to secrecy.”

“Shame upon you.  I have not demanded anything.  I only expect—­”

“What?” inquired his uncle.

“That you will of your own free will and accord loan me the money necessary to pay old Mr. Lonner’s fine.  In a few months, when Ragnar Lonner returns and repays me, I will settle with you.  If he does not repay me, why it is but a small sum to lose.”

“And what will you require for yourself?” inquired Mr. Fabian.

“Shall I peddle out my secret like a Jew?  I swear by my honor that I will not divulge to my aunt one word of all that has passed.”

Mr. Fabian thrust his hand into his capacious pocket, and withdrawing his purse, with a sigh counted the money into Gottlieb’s hand.

“I shall not give you my note for this, for if I am not repaid I do not expect to repay you.”

His uncle did not immediately reply, but after opening and closing his purse several times, he addressed his nephew in a tone which displayed deep and true emotion.

“Gottlieb,” said he, “I am not miserly.  You have spared me when you might have prepared a place of torment for me.  I am grateful.  Have you any debts?  Your father is not rich.”

“That is spoken like a man of honor and a true relation,” said Gottlieb, warmly, “but fortunately I have always been obliged to live economically, and therefore have escaped from falling into the foolish habit of contracting debts.”

“Well, then, if you have no debts, you at least have a future to prepare for.  You must not therefore refuse my offer.”

“I do not wish to make use of it at present.  Yet I do not wish you to consider it refused entirely.  At this moment I do not require anything, unless indeed you wish to spare my feet and my boots, by giving me a little money to pay my travelling expenses.  When the time comes, and I find myself fully engaged in my father’s office, I will consider your proposal with the greatest pleasure.”