A Fool and His Money | Page 6

of an estate once valued at
several millions. I am quite sure I have never seen a spendthrift with
more energy than this fellow seems to have displayed in going through
with his patrimony. He was on his uppers, so to speak, when I came to
his rescue, solely because he couldn't find a purchaser or a tenant for
the castle, try as he would. Afterwards I heard that he had offered the
place to a syndicate of Jews for one-third the price I paid, but luckily
for me the Hebraic instinct was not so keen as mine. They let a very
good bargain get away from them. I have not told my most intimate
friends what I paid for the castle, but they are all generous enough to
admit that I could afford it, no matter what it cost me. Their generosity
stops there, however. I have never had so many unkind things said to
me in all my life as have been said about this purely personal matter.
Well, to make the story short, the Hazzards and I returned to Schloss
Rothhoefen in some haste, primarily for the purpose of inspecting it
from dungeon to battlement. I forgot to mention that, being very tired
after the climb up the steep, we got no further on our first visit than the
great baronial hall, the dining-room and certain other impressive
apartments customarily kept open for the inspection of visitors. An
interesting concession on the part of the late owner (the gentleman
hurrying to catch up with the dogs that had got a bit of a start on
him),--may here be mentioned. He included all of the contents of the
castle for the price paid, and the deed, or whatever you call it,
specifically set forth that I, John Bellamy Smart, was the sole and

undisputed owner of everything the castle held. This made the bargain
all the more desirable, for I have never seen a more beautiful
assortment of antique furniture and tapestry in Fourth Avenue than was
to be found in Schloss Rothhoefen.
Our second and more critical survey of the lower floors of the castle
revealed rather urgent necessity for extensive repairs and refurbishing,
but I was not dismayed. With a blithesome disregard for expenses, I
despatched Rudolph, the elder of the two sons to Linz with instructions
to procure artisans who could be depended upon to undo the ravages of
time to a certain extent and who might even suggest a remedy for leaks.
My friends, abhorring rheumatism and like complaints, refused to sleep
over night in the drafty, almost paneless structure. They came over to
see me on the ensuing day and begged me to return to Vienna with
them. But, full of the project in hand, I would not be moved. With the
house full of carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, locksmiths, tinsmiths,
plumbers, plasterers, glaziers, joiners, scrub-women and
chimneysweeps, I felt that I couldn't go away and leave it without a
controlling influence.
They promised to come and make me a nice short visit, however, after
I'd got the castle primped up a bit: the mould off the walls of the
bedrooms and the great fireplaces thoroughly cleared of obstructive
swallows' nests, the beds aired and the larder stocked. Just as they were
leaving, my secretary and my valet put in an appearance, having been
summoned from Vienna the day before. I confess I was glad to see
them. The thought of spending a second night in that limitless
bed-chamber, with all manner of night-birds trying to get in at the
windows, was rather disturbing, and I welcomed my retainers with
open arms.
My first night had been spent in a huge old bed, carefully prepared for
occupancy by Herr Schmick's frau; and the hours, which never were so
dark, in trying to fathom the infinite space that reached above me to the
vaulted ceiling. I knew there was a ceiling, for I had seen its beams
during the daylight hours, but to save my soul I couldn't imagine
anything so far away as it seemed to be after the candles had been taken

away by the caretaker's wife, who had tucked me away in the bed with
ample propriety and thoroughness combined.
Twice during that interminable night I thought I heard a baby crying.
So it is not unreasonable to suppose that I was more than glad to see
Poopendyke clambering up the path with his typewriter in one hand
and his green baise bag in the other, followed close behind by Britton
and the Gargantuan brothers bearing trunks, bags, boxes and my golf
clubs.
"Whew!" said Poopendyke, dropping wearily upon my doorstep--which,
by the way, happens to be a rough hewn slab some ten feet square
surmounted by a portcullis that has every intention of