University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

On re-entering the town, Claude cast his eyes upon
the walls, trees, and fences where public bills were
usually posted, and which he never thought of regarding
before. There were the advertisements of concerts
in the gardens—of fireworks—menageries—theatres—auctions,
etc., etc. At length one larger than
the rest, conspicuously headed “100 thalers reward,”
met his eye. On examining it, he read as follows:

“Lost, on the 1st of January, in or about the town,
a leathern purse containing 250 Louis. The finder
will receive the above reward on presenting the purse
at the comtoir of Monsieur Kühl, No. 433 Kloster
Strasse.”

The bill was blackened, weather-worn, and nearly
effaced. A part of it had been torn off by some idle
hand, and a staring new advertisement of a “Grosses
Concert” was pasted nearly over it, as a thing passed
and forgotten. Claude instantly bent his way towards
the counting-house of Monsieur Kühl.

On arriving at the house, he entered the comtoir,
and found himself, after passing an antechamber, in a
large apartment filled with clerks behind high desks
and counters; he inquired for Mr. Kühl, and was asked
for his card, which the young man, after reading,
not without marks of interest, carried into his chef.
The young man presently returned, and desired him to
walk into a private room. Mr. Kühl was writing.
He was one of the richest bankers in Berlin—a large,
plain-looking person, not dressed with much neatness.
One could scarcely have conceived, from his appearance,
that he was worth millions. He looked up and
rose, and himself handed a chair.

“I have the honour of speaking to Mr. Claude

Wyndham, the gentleman lately connected with the
dreadful affair which has happened in our town, and
created such a sensation.”

Claude acquiesced.

“I am very happy to see you, Mr. Wyndham. Do
not blush, young man,” said Mr. Kühl, for Claude coloured
at the allusion. “I am the father of three sons,
as hot after gunpowder as if it were good wine; and
I have learned, with great admiration, your whole conduct
in this affair. Don't blush, sir, to have set your
face against duelling. You have acted nobly. Every
father — every mother—every wife and child in the
universe ought to bless and support you. Such an
example is worthy a hero. Sir Walter Raleigh did
the same; and I think I have heard that Washington,
the great American soldier and statesman, did the
same. Sir, in the name of my family—in the name
of mankind, I thank you.”

And the honest man, who had risen in his enthusiasm,
seized his hand and shook it heartily.

“Sir,” said Claude, “I have acted according to my
conscience; and your approbation, as a stranger, is
grateful to me.”

“Conscience, sir? I'm glad to find a man of your
appearance, and moving in your exalted rank of life,
has one. The young folks of the day generally are
without it. Egad, their corsets are laced so tight that
there isn't room for it.”

And he laughed loudly at his humour.

“I shall always be too proud if Mr. Wyndham will
honour me by a visit; my wife and daughters want
to see you. You are prayed for in our family. You
have saved bloodshed.”

“I? Indeed, sir!”

“My son has met you somewhere, and, it seems,
has a great esteem for you. I don't wonder, sir;
egad! now I look at you, I don't wonder. Well, sir,
this young whipper-snapper—he's only nineteen—must
get into a quarrel with another blockhead. My boy

was struck — swords were chosen — the ground was
selected—and the young fools would have cut each
other's ears and noses off as sure as fate, if Madame
Wharton had not happened to come in. I'm her banker,
sir. She visits our family—God bless her! and a
noble creature she is. She gave us your history, sir.
My son heard how you had borne a blow—passing it
over with the contempt it merited rather than commit
a crime. It made a deep impression on him—for the
boy has a soul. He went to his adversary, and told
him he had come to exchange apologies. They did
so, and are now the best friends possible. One bold
example goes far, particularly with the young. Let
a few more men like you thus discountenance duelling,
and it will fall into the hands of vulgar black-guards
and cutthroats, where alone it deserves to be
sanctioned. Sir, I honour you; and if ever I can serve
you in any way, command me to any extent. My house
—my purse are at your service.”

“I have not come to take purses to-day, but to give
them,” said Claude, whom this narration had restored
to a part of his natural ease and gayety of manner.

“You are named as the person to receive a large
sum of gold lost in January.”

“Well, sir!”

“Here it is.”

“Why, where on earth did you light upon it?”

“I found it this morning in the Park.”

“By Heaven! you know not what you've done.”
He seized his hat. “You shall take a walk with me.
It is not far. I will show you something which will
repay your trouble.”

Claude began to think the old gentleman was crazy,
from the rapidity with which he went puffing and blowing
along through the streets, muttering half-uttered
exclamations of impatience and joy.

“Here we are,” said Monsieur Kühl.

They stopped before a little, low, poor-looking
house in Frederic Strasse. Monsieur Kühl hurried

up to the fifth story and knocked. The door was opened
by a little old lady, neatly dressed, but with a pale
countenance. Nothing could be more scanty than the
furniture of the room. Upon a mean bed, lay the
form of another female—an invalid—and a little poorly-clothed
child sat on the floor, eating a piece of dry,
black bread.

“Come in! come up! ha! ha! ha! Mon Dieu!
I've brought a visiter. Come up, monsieur.”

The little old lady courtesied with an air of good
breeding, which strangely contrasted with the poverty-stricken
appearance of the things around her.

“Pray be seated,” said she, handing the two broken
chairs.

“I want you to relate to this monsieur your history,”
said Mr. Kühl. “Be brief, for he's a hard-hearted dog,
and won't bear any amplifications.”

The old lady looked rather surprised.

“I really don't know,” said she, in French, “why I
should trouble monsieur with miseries which he—”

“Nach! obey me,” said Monsieur Kühl. “Tell it.
I am sure it will amuse him. He's extremely fond of
tragedy.”

“I do not know what you mean,” said the old lady;
“but I know you are my only friend, Mr. Kühl, and I
shall comply.”

“And in the very fewest words possible,” added
Kühl.

“Well, then, we are two poor sisters. Our parents
were rich, but lost all their fortune, and then their lives.
We had one sister. She was governess in the family
of a Russian nobleman. For twenty years we scarcely
heard anything of her, till one day the news arrived of
her death. She had amassed, sir, a considerable sum,
about 250 louis-d'ors. We were old and destitute, and
she had consigned this money on her dying bed to a
servant of her patron, who had permission to travel.
He brought it to Berlin, and here he lost it—so at least
he says. His master had reason to believe that he had

gambled it away, and he is at this instant in Siberia.
This has been the last we ever heard of our little property;
my poor surviving sister is an invalid, and we
are struggling along with as much resignation as possible.”

“There is your money!” said Kühl. “Hand it out,
Mr. Wyndham.”

And it was with a sincere feeling of satisfaction that
Claude laid the purse upon the table.

“Count them,” said Mr. Kühl.

She did so.

“There are 250.”

“Now you are happy, and independent for life.”

“And that poor innocent being in Siberia!” said she.
Tears came to the eyes of the desolate little old
lady, and the invalid half rose in her bed to gaze.

“There is a reward, you know,” said Kühl.

“Not a cent,” said Claude. “I would not mingle
this pleasure with any interested feeling for the world.”

“I thought as much,” said Kühl.

“Who are you, sir?” said the lady, turning to
Claude.

“No matter. I will come and see you again by-and-by.
In the mean time, you had better let Mr.
Kühl take charge of your new-found prize, for it would
not be pleasant to lose it again.”