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. Otto's thoughts brightened
at the prospect, and he began to regard himself with a renewed
respect.

'I can find you, I believe, a purchaser,' he said, 'and one who
would continue to avail himself of your skill.'

'Can you, sir, indeed?' said the old man. 'Well, I shall be
heartily obliged; for I begin to find a man may practise resignation
all his days, as he takes physic, and not come to like it in the
end.'