' It
was his last pipe, and I believe he knew it; and it was a strange
thing, without doubt, to leave the trees that he had planted, and
the son that he had begotten, ay, sir, and even the old pipe with
the Turk's head that he had smoked since he was a lad and went a-
courting. But here we have no continuing city; and as for the
eternal, it's a comfortable thought that we have other merits than
our own. And yet you would hardly think how sore it goes against
the grain with me, to die in a strange bed.'
'And must you do so? For what reason?' Otto asked.
'The reason? The place is to be sold; three thousand crowns,'
replied Mr. Gottesheim. 'Had it been a third of that, I may say
without boasting that, what with my credit and my savings, I could
have met the sum. But at three thousand, unless I have singular
good fortune and the new proprietor continues me in office, there is
nothing left me but to budge.'
Otto's fancy for the place redoubled at the news, and became joined
with other feelings. If all he heard were true, Grunewald was
growing very hot for a sovereign Prince; it might be well to have a
refuge; and if so, what more delightful hermitage could man imagine?
Mr. Gottesheim, besides, had touched his sympathies. Every man
loves in his soul to play the part of the stage deity. And to step
down to the aid of the old farmer, who had so roughly handled him in
talk, was the ideal of a Fair Revenge.
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