"But," said Daniel, "what will be the fate of the ancient and faithful followers, whose asylum this manor is? Shall they go and beg the bread of pity?"
"What is it to me!" replied the inheritor of the entail; "what have I to do with these old people. I shall give to each one a reward proportioned to the length of his services."
"Alas, alas!" exclaimed the major-domo, mournfully, "must I at my age be sent from this house, where I hoped that my bones would rest in peace!"
"Accursed dog," howled Wolfgang, his hand raised against Daniel; "damned hypocrite, dost thou expect any favor of me, and dost thou think to make me thy dupe, after having aided my father in his sorcery, which consumed gradually the best part of my inheritance; thou who excitedst in the heart of the old man all the extravagances of avarice! Ought I not, to reward thee worthily, kill thee?"
Great was, at these words, the fright of Daniel; he crawlingly threw himself at the feet of his new lord, who having no compassion upon him, knocked him down to the floor by a violent kick in the breast. The miserable major-domo uttered a stifled cry, like a wild beast wounded, and raised himself slowly, throwing a look full of hatred and vengeance towards his master, then went away without picking up a purse full of gold that baron Wolfgang had dropped, to pay for the ill treatment that had been inflicted upon his servant.
The first care of the new proprietor of R—sitten was to compute, with the assistance of his counsellor, the lawyer V, my great uncle, the state of the revenues of the estate. This examination, finished with the most minute care, established in the mind of the lawyer that the old baron Roderick had not been able to spend the whole of the annual rent of his domain; and as they had found amongst his papers but very insignificant value in bills of exchange, it was manifest that the cash must have been secreted in some place, of which the major-domo, Daniel, confidant of the deceased, alone possessed the secret.
