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sounded quite different in his harsh bass.
    CHAPTER IX
    IT was rather late, nearly eleven, when the party began to break up. They had reassembled in the landscape-room, and they all made their adieux at the same time. The Frau Con-sul, as soon as her hand had been kissed in farewell, went upstairs to see how Christian was doing. To Mamsell Jung-mann was left the supervision of the maids as they set things to rights and put away the silver. Madame Antoinette re-tired to the entresol. But the Consul accompanied his guests downstairs, across the entry, and outside the house. A high wind was driving the rain slantwise through the streets as the old Kr�s, wrapped in heavy fur mantles, slipped as fast as they could into their carriage. It had been waiting for hours before the door. The street was lighted by the flickering yellow rays from oil lamps hanging on posts before the houses or suspended on heavy chains across the streets. The projecting fronts of some of the houses jutted out into the roadway; others had porticos or raised benches added on. The street ran steeply down to the River Trave; it was badly paved, and sodden grass sprang up between the cracks. The church of St. Mary'a was entirely shrouded in rain and darkness. "Merci" said Lebreiht Kr�, shaking the Consul's hand as he stood by the carriage door. "Merci, Jean; it was too charming!" The door slammed, and the carriage drove off. Pastor Wunderlich and Broker Gratjens expressed their thanks and went their way. Herr K�n, in a mantle with a five-fold cape and a broad grey hat, took his plump wife on his arm and said in his gruff bass: "G'night, Buddenbrook. Go in, go in; don't catch cold. Best thanks for everything-- BUDDENBRDOK5 don't know when I've fed so well! So you like my red wine at four marks? Well, g'night, again." The K�ns went in the same direction as the Kr�s, down toward the river; Senator Langhals, Doctor Grabow, and Jean Jacques Hoffstede turned the other way. Consul Bud-denbrook stood with his hands in his trousers pockets and listened to their footsteps as they died away down the empty, damp, dimly-lighted street. He shivered a little in his light clothes as he stood there a few paces from his own house, and turned to look up at its grey gabled fa�e. His eyes lin-gered upon the motto carved in the stone over the entrance, in antique lettering: Dorninus providebit--"The Lord will pro-vide." He bowed his head a little and went in, bolting the door carefully behind him. Then he locked the vestibule door and walked slowly across the echoing floor of the great entry. The cook was coming down the stairs with a tray of glasses in her hands, and he asked her, "Where's the master, Trina?" "In the dining-room, Herr Consul," said she, and her face went as'red as her arms, for she came from the country and was very bashful. As he passed through the dark hall, he felt in his pocket for the letter. Then he went quickly into the dining-room, where a few small candle-ends in one of the candelabra cast a dim light over the empty table. The sour smell of the onion sauce still hung on the air. Over by the windows Johann Buddenbrook was pacing comfortably up and down, with his hands behind his back.
    CHAPTER X
    "WELL, Johann, my son, where are you going?" He stood still and put his hand out to his son--his white Buddenbrook hand, a little too short, though finely modelled. His active figure showed indistinctly against the dark red curtains, the only gleams of white being from his powdered hair and the lace frill at his throat. "Aren't you sleepy? I've been here listening to the wind; the weather is something fearful. Captain Kloht is on his way from Riga...." "Oh, Father, with God's help all will be well." "Well, do you think I can depend on that? I know you are on intimate terms with the Almighty--" The Consul felt his courage rise at this display of good humour. "Well, to get to the point," he began, "I came in here not to bid you good night, but to--you