of all the measures taken against me—­became possessed of my secret nearly from the beginning, and, tempted by the love of money, had supplied himself with a key to my chest, and from that time had been laying the foundation of his present wealth.  Bendel related all this with many tears, and wept for joy that I was once more safely restored to him, after all his fears and anxieties for me.  In me, however, such a state of things only awoke despair.

My dreadful fate now stared me in the face in all its gigantic and unchangeable horror.  The source of tears was exhausted within me; no groans escaped my breast; but with cool indifference I bared my unprotected head to the blast.  “Bendel,” said I, “you know my fate; this heavy visitation is a punishment for my early sins:  but as for thee, my innocent friend, I can no longer permit thee to share my destiny.  I will depart this very night—­saddle me a horse—­I will set out alone.  Remain here, Bendel—­I insist upon it:  there must be some chests of gold still left in the house—­take them, they are thine.  I shall be a restless and solitary wanderer on the face of the earth; but should better days arise, and fortune once more smile propitiously on me, then I will not forget thy steady fidelity; for in hours of deep distress thy faithful bosom has been the depository of my sorrows.”  With a bursting heart, the worthy Bendel prepared to obey this last command of his master; for I was deaf to all his arguments and blind to his tears.  My horse was brought—­I pressed my weeping friend to my bosom—­threw myself into the saddle, and, under the friendly shades of night, quitted this sepulchre of my existence, indifferent which road my horse should take; for now on this side the grave I had neither wishes, hopes, nor fears.

After a short time I was joined by a traveller on foot, who, after walking for a while by the side of my horse, observed that as we both seemed to be travelling the same road, he should beg my permission to lay his cloak on the horse’s back behind me, to which I silently assented.  He thanked me with easy politeness for this trifling favour, praised my horse, and then took occasion to extol the happiness and the power of the rich, and fell, I scarcely know how, into a sort of conversation with himself, in which I merely acted the part of listener.  He unfolded his views of human life and of the world, and, touching on metaphysics, demanded an answer from that cloudy science to the question of questions—­the answer that should solve all mysteries.  He deduced one problem from another in a very lucid manner, and then proceeded to their solution.

You may remember, my dear friend, that after having run through the school-philosophy, I became sensible of my unfitness for metaphysical speculations, and therefore totally abstained from engaging in them.  Since then I have acquiesced in some things, and abandoned all hope of comprehending others; trusting, as you advised me, to my own plain sense and the voice of conscience to direct and, if possible, maintain me in the right path.