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He found Koch the carpenter untying a heifer from the crib, complaining bitterly of hard times. He went away without mentioning the object of his visit. The College Chap had left home already, and Florian made up his mind to go to the Eagle and say that the College Chap had sent him to ask for a loan of six dollars: he scorned to ask for a trifle. Mine host of the Eagle answered, “I won’t lend any thing to anybody: it only sets the best of friends by the ears.” “Just what I said myself,” said Florian, laughing bitterly, as he turned away.

With a feeling of utter desolation, he walked about, thinking, “Without money a man’s a stranger in his own house.” Suffused with perspiration, he ran up one street and down another: it seemed as if every minute wasted was a loss not to be retrieved. He now bethought himself of the aristocratic expedient of borrowing from a Jew. Like the noble lords and ladies who first invented this practice, he had no reason to fear the reproving looks of these people in his further extravagances and vain-glory. “Jews’ claims are no disgrace,” he said to himself, and applied to Mendle’s son Meyer, who was going to market with a belt full of money, for the loan of some ducats at a high rate of interest. The offer was rejected.

At last it occurred to him to go straight to Horb and pretend that he had lost or forgotten his money. Vexed with himself for not having thought of this before, he set out immediately. He passed George the blacksmith, sitting at his front door as usual, and in the best of spirits,–for the marketers afforded him plenty of entertainment.

“Where bound so fast, Florian? You look as if you could buy the world out.”

Florian stared, and stood still. He forgot that it was George’s peculiar delight, when people passed with a heavy burden, a sack of corn, or a bundle of clover, to hold them fast with questions. Many were caught in this trap; and then the old gossip would rejoice that he could sit there doing nothing while others toiled and struggled. He was equally fond of laying hands on such as had heavy loads upon their hearts; for it was just at such times that they were likely to be most communicative. All this escaped Florian; and he inquired,–

“How do you know that?”

“Can’t you tell by looking at a stocking when the leg’s out of it? I know all about it. Crescence went up just now, with her mother’s husband, going to market, too.”

“Never fear.”

“I know all about it. They say you’re well tied up with her.” Florian smiled and passed on, glad to know that the truth was not suspected.

In the hollow Florian saw Schlunkel,–an outcast of a fellow, who had been to the penitentiary twice, sitting by the roadside and counting money. At another time he would not have honored such a wretch with a look; but now he could not help addressing him with, “Shall I help you count?” The fellow looked at him without answering.

Florian sat down beside him and at last asked him for a florin. Schlunkel grinned, tightened the strings of his purse, passed his finger across his mouth, and whistled. Florian held his arm convulsively.

“You wouldn’t take the money from me, would you?” asked Schlunkel. “What do you want so much money for?”

“I want to buy something.”

“Well, I’ll go to Horb with you.”

Florian would rather have perished on the spot than to have been seen walking with Schlunkel in broad daylight. “Give me six creutzers,” he said: “I’ll meet you in the ‘Knight’ in an hour, and pay you.”

Schlunkel gave him the money, and Florian ran away with the speed of lightning, often putting his hand into his pocket to make quite sure of how much he had. He squeezed the four coins through his fingers one by one, as if to make each one bring forth another. He went whistling through the cattle-fair, to reach the fancy fair in the upper part of the town.