For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in the wavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings of steel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, the signatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway across each crackling parchment.He counted sixteen of them in all.Four millions of crowns....He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams.
He rose, and restored the gun to its case.Fifty crowns? No, no!
A hundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts of the green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away.There was no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will.Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these were his.A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundred thousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetary denominations; in all countries it was wealth.
Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically.A voice whispered "No, not a hundred thousand;four millions!" But reason, though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futility of attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently.His hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure.Twice, in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his grasp and scattered.How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundred thousand crowns!
He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilt on the bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed without mishap.He descended the ladder.As he reached the bottom round his heart gave a great leap.From the alley came the sound of approaching steps.Nearer and nearer they came;a shadow entered the courtyard and made straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the reclining ladder.The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed a belated serving maid.A moment passed, and all became dark again.But Johann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill at the roots of his hair.He dared not move for three or four minutes.But he waited in vain for other steps.He cursed the serving maid for the fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street.He directed his steps toward Stuler's.
"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought.In the gun barrels, the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been there yet! A hundred thousand crowns!"It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture under foot.On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times; but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing.He was rich! He laughed; and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convince himself that he was not dreaming.To whom should he sell? To the Osians? To the duchess?
To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the hundred thousand crowns? He knew.Aye, two hundred thousand would not be too much.The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agent would not find them.The abduction? He would carry it through as he had promised.It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundred thousand.He was rich! He shook his hand toward the inky sky, toward the palace, toward all that signified the past.....A hundred thousand crowns!
