Know’st thou not how terribly I punish such an outrage?”
“My Lord,” replied Veit, “sheer necessity has driven me to take this step. I have a petition to lay before you, which you can readily comply with, and thereby save me from utter destruction. If you will lend me a hundred dollars, I will in three years, as I am an honest man, repay you the money with full legal interest.”—“Blockhead!” replied the Gnome, “dost thou take me for a usurer? Go, address thyself to thy brother men, and borrow of them the sum thou needest, and trouble me no longer.”—“Alas!” replied Veit, “it’s all up with me in that quarter; brotherhood among men does not extend to money matters.” He then told his pitiful story in detail, and described the oppression and misery he had suffered so pathetically, that the Gnome could not resist his entreaties. Even had the poor wretch been less deserving of compassion, the idea of borrowing money from him struck Rubezahl as something so original, so confiding, so ingenuous, that he would not have hesitated to extricate the petitioner from his difficulties. “Follow me,” said he; and plunging into the wood, he led Veit through it to a distant valley, at whose extremity rose a steep rock, the base of which was surrounded by thick brushwood.
When Veit and his conductor had with some
