The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-08-10
THE UNWELCOME GOLD
n Somnambulistic Romance.
From the German.

From the German.
Ems is a charming place. 1t lies in the valley
of the Lain, all bordered with orchards and
vineyards and steep wooded hills. Swarms of
donkeys with gray saddles, attended by drivers
in blue blouses and scarlet-trimmed caps loiter
beneath the trees, soliciting hire. Fashionable
invalids are promenading. Gaming is going
forward busily in the Conversation Haus alike
daily and nightly. All is pleasure incidence,
and Irritation.
To Ems, therefore, came the Count Won Stein
berg to drink the waters and to while away
few weeks of the summer season. He was a
tall, fair, handsome young man; an excellent
specimen of the German dragoon. You would
never suppose, to look at him, that anything of
illness could be his inducement to visiting Ems
and yet he suffered from two very serious mala-
dies, both of which, it was to be feared, were
incurable by any springs, medicinal or other
wise.
The case was this: His grandfather had left
large property, which his father, an irreclaim-
able gambler, had spent to the uttermost farth-
ing The youth had been placed in the army.
His father was now dead; the inheritance gone;
and he had absolutely nothing beyond his pay
a captain of Dragons and the distant pros
pect of one day retiring with the title and half
pay of major. A sorry future for one who was
disinterestedly and deeply in love with one of
the richest heiresses in Germany!
''Who marries my daughter will receive with
her dowry of two hundred thousand tiorins
and shall expect her husband to possess, at
the least an equal fortune"
SO said the Baron of Hohendorf, in cold reply
to the lovers timid declaration; and with these
words still sounding in his ears and lying heavily
upon his heart, came the Count Won Stenberg
to seek forgetfulness, or, at least, temporary
amusement at Ems. But in vain. Pale and
silent, he roamed restlessly to and fro upon the
public promenades, or wandered away to hide
his wretchedness in the forests or lonely valleys
around the town.
Sometimes he would mingle with the gay
crowd in the Kurkhaus and taste the bitter
waters sometimes linger mournfully round the
tables of the company, gazing enviously, yet
with kind of vrtuous horror, at the glittering
heaps of gold. and at the packets of crisp, yell
low notes, which there echanged hands SO swiftly
and in such profusion.
But Albert Won Steinberg was no gambler.
He had seen and experienced the evil of that
terrible vice too keenly already in his own
father to fall aprey to it himself. Years ago he
had vowed never TO play, and he had kept his
oath.
Nothing could be more regular than his mode
of life.
1t was a dull life for a young man-especially
with that sweet, sad recollection of Emma Won
Hohendorf pervading every thought, and all be-
cause he was poor He had great mind to
throw himself off the rock where he was stand
ing-or to throw himself into the river, if il
were deep enough-or to go to the Baron's own
castle-gate and shoot himsef-or-or in short,
to do anything desperate, if it were only suffi-
GENTLY romantic; for his hot young German
head, full of sentiment and Schiller, could be
content with nothing less than an imposing
tragedy.
The sun was just setting-the landscape was
loyely-life was still sweet, and he thought that
he would not commit suicide that evening, at all
events. SO he went moodiy down the winding
pathway, across the bridge, and, quite by chance
wandered once more into the Conversation Haus
The gaming was going on the glfttering gold
pieces changing hands, the earnest players sit
ting round as usual. The sight only made him
more unhappy.
"Two hundred thousand forins ~ he thought
to himself. "Two hundred thousand florins
would make me the happiest man on earth and
Icannot get them. What miserable dog am y
And he pulled his hat on fiercely and strobe
out of the rooms, taking the road to his OWL
lodging with so dismal an air that people turned
and looked after him, saying, "He has lost
money-we saw him come out of the gaming
rooms"
'Lost money p muttered he to himself, as he
went into his garret and locked his door, ''lost
money! indeed | wish had any to lose"
And poor Albert Won Steinberg fell asleep la
menting that the age of fairies and gnomes hac
passed away.
His sleep was long, sound, dreamless. HI
woke late, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and at las
sprang valiantly out of bed.
Was he still dreaming? Can he be mad? No
ii is real, true, wonderful There upon the table
lies brilliant heap of golden pieces-hard, ring
ing, real gold pieces
How did it come there? He rings the bel
violently. The female servant runs up, think
ing some dreadful accident had occurred.
"Some one has been here to call upon me thi
moming?"
''No, monsieur
'Indeed Somebody, then, has been up stair
since l have been asleep"
''No, monsieur"
Nov, speak the truth, Bertha some one ha
been here; you are paid to deny it, Only tel
me who it is and viii give you double for you
information"
The servant looked both alarmed and aston
ished ''Indeed, there has not been a soul
Does monsieur miss anything from his apart
ment? Shall send for the gendarmes~?"
The Count looked searchingly in the girl'
face She looked wholly sincere and truthful
Puzzled, bewldered, our young friend dismissed
Drink Tannhauser beer. II. Benzler.