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Samuel Brohl received a visit from her。 She questioned him； examined
him； felt him； as we feel a peach to be certain it is ripe。 Samuel was very
happy； he was free； he enjoyed his life； he did as he pleased。 One single
thing spoiled his happiness； when he looked in the glass； he would
sometimes say within himself： 〃These are the features of a man who is
sold； and the woman who bought him is neither young nor beautiful。〃
Several times he determined to learn a trade； so that he might be in a
position to refund the debt and break the bargain。 But he never did。 He
was both ambitious and idle。 He wanted to fly at once； he had a horror of
beginnings of apprenticeships。 His early education had been so neglected
that in order to recover lost time he would have been compelled to study
hardall the more so because； although he was quick…witted； and had a
marvellous facility for entering into the thoughts of others； his own stock
was poor； he had no ideas of his own； nor individuality of mind。 He
possessed a collection of half…talents； even in music； he was incapable of
originating； when he attempted to compose； his inspirations proved mere
reminiscences。 He did himself justice； he felt that； strive as he might； his
half…talents never would aid him to secure the first position； and he
disdained the second。 In fact； what he most needed was will； which； after
all； makes the man。 He tried to fling himself from his horse； which carried
him where he did not desire to go； but he felt that his feet held firm in the
stirrup； he had not strength to disengage them； and he remained in the
saddle。 Not being able to be a great man； he abandoned himself to his fate；
which condemned him to be only a knave。 At the expiration of his term of
freedom； he declared himself solvent； and the princess took possession of
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her merchandise。
〃Yes； poets are corrupters；〃 thought Count Abel Larinski。 〃If Samuel
Brohl never had read /The Merchant of Venice/； or /Egmont/； a tragedy in
five acts； or Schiller's ballads； he would have been resigned to his new
position； he would have seen its good sides； and would have eaten and
drunk his shame in peace； without experiencing any uncomfortable
sensations； but he had read the poets； and he grew disgusted； nauseated。
He was dying with desire to get away； and the princess suspected it。 She
kept him always in sight； she held him close； she paid him quarterly；
shilling by shilling； his meagre allowance。 She said to herself： 'So long as
he has nothing； he cannot escape。' She mistook； he did escape； and he was
so afraid of being retaken that for some time he hid like a criminal；
pursued by the police。 He fancied that this woman was always on his track。
It was then； for the first time； that he felt hunger； for they eat in the land of
Egypt。 He lived by all sorts of expedients； and cursed the poets。 One day
he learned that his father was dead； he hastened to the old tavern in order
to succeed to the inheritance。 He was not aware that for two years old
Jeremiah Brohl had been in his dotage； and that his debtors mocked him
while devouring his substance。 A fine inheritance！ it was diminished to
two or three rickety chairs； four cracked walls that scarcely could stand
upright； and some jewellery concealed in a hiding…place that Samuel knew
of。 Old Jeremiah never had been able to dispose of it for the price he
required； and he preferred to keep it rather than lower his charge。 He had
principles； which was well for Samuel； as the jewellery was useful to him。
He sold a necklace； and set out for Bucharest； some one having told him
that he certainly would make his fortune there。 He gave music…lessons；
this wearisome profession did not suit him； he could not endure the
constraint and the regular hours。 The boys plagued himhe would
willingly have wrung their necks； the girls treated him like a dog they
never thought of his being handsome； because they suspected him of being
a Jew。 Why had he gone to Bucharesta city where all Germans are Jews；
and where Jews are not considered men？ Although he had earned a little
money； he grew melancholy； and he began to think seriously of killing
himself。〃
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Count Abel Larinski leaned forward； plucked a spray of heather；
tickled his lips with it； and began to laugh； then； striking his breast； he said；
in an undertone； 〃Thank God； Samuel Brohl is not dead； for he is here！〃
He spoke the truth： Samuel Brohl was not dead； and life was of value
to him； since he had met Mlle。 Antoinette Moriaz in the cathedral in Chur。
It was Samuel Brohl who had come to Cormeilles； and who was seated； at
this moment； in the midst of a grove of oaks。 Perhaps the lark that he had
heard singing a quarter of an hour before had recognised him； for it had
ceased singing。 The peacock continued its screaming； and its doleful cries
sounded like a warning。 Yes； the man seated among the heather； employed
in narrating his own history to himself； was indeed Samuel Brohl； and the
proof of this was that he had laughed； while Count Abel Larinski never
laughed； moreover； for four years the latter had been out of the world。 The
second reason is； perhaps； the better。
He whom； with or without his consent； we shall call henceforth
Samuel Brohl； reproached himself for this access of levity； as he would
have reproached himself for a false note that had escaped him in executing
a Mozart sonata。 He resumed his grave； dignified air； in order to salute
with a wave of his hand the phantom that had just appeared before him。 It
was the same that he had summoned one evening at the Hotel Steinbock；
and treated there as an addle…brain； as a visionary； and even as an imbecile；
but this time he gave him a more indulgent and gracious reception。 He
bore him no ill…will； he wished him well； he was under essential
obligations to him； and Samuel Brohl was no ingrate。
〃Ah！ well； my poor friend； I am here；〃 he said； in that mute language