Vjera turned her head when she had reached the corner of the street, and
saw that the Count had disappeared. He had entered the Café, and had
evidently accepted her assurance that she would bring the money without
delay. So far, at least, she had been successful. Though by far the most
difficult portion of the enterprise lay before her, she was convinced that
if she could really produce the fifty marks, the approaching catastrophe
of total madness would be averted. Her determination was still so strong
that she never doubted the possibility of performing her promise. Without
hesitation, she returned to the shop, in search of Johann Schmidt, to
whose energies and kindness she instinctively turned for counsel and help.
As she came to the door she saw that he was just bidding good-night to his
employer. She waited a moment and met him on the pavement as he came out.

"I must have fifty marks in an hour, Herr Schmidt," she said, boldly. "If
I do not get it, something dreadful will happen."

"Fifty marks!" exclaimed the Cossack in a tone of amazement. If she had
said fifty millions, the shock to his financial sense could not have been
more severe. "It is an enormous sum," he said, slowly, while she fixed her
eyes upon him, waiting for his answer. "What is the matter, Vjera? Have
you not been able to pay your rent this year, and has old Homolka
threatened to turn you out?"

"Oh no! It is worse than that, far worse than that! If it were only
myself--" she hesitated.

"What is it? Who is it? Perhaps it is not so serious as you think. Tell me
all about it."