Part 35 (2/2)
”It is a petrified tear of joy,” interrupted Itzig, ”shed by us on our delivery by you from taxation. You are our greatest benefactor, our best friend. You have proved yourself the savior of the Jews, for you freed us from the tax, and saved us what is more precious than honor, and rank, and happiness--our money; for, without money, the Jew is n.o.body. Accept, therefore, the ring, and wear it for our sakes.”
”Accept it, we pray you,” cried Ephraim, and the Jews took up the cry.
Gotzkowsky took the ring, and placed it on his finger, thanking the givers for the costly present, and a.s.suring them he would wear it with pleasure in honor of them.
Itzig's brow was clouded with a slight frown, and stepping back to Ephraim and his friends, he muttered, ”He accepts it. I was in hopes he would refuse it, for it cost much money, and we could have made very good use of it.”
The solemn advance of the honorable gentlemen of the Berlin Town Council interrupted Itzig's private soliloquy, and drew his attention toward the chief burgomaster, Herr von Kircheisen, who, in all the splendor and dignity of his golden chain and of his office, accompanied by the senators and town officers, strode pompously through the crowd, and presented his hand to Gotzkowsky, who was respectfully advancing to meet him.
”The Council of Berlin has come to thank you. For it is an unparalleled example for a man to undertake and go through what you have done for us, without any interest, without any ulterior object.”
”You make me out better than I am,” replied Gotzkowsky, smiling at Herr von Kircheisen's pompous words. ”I had an ulterior object. I wished to gain the love of my fellow-citizens. If I have succeeded, I am more than rewarded, and I pray you say no more on the subject.”
The chief burgomaster shook his head majestically. ”You have exercised toward us the virtue of philanthropy. Allow us to exercise toward you in return the virtue of grat.i.tude.” He took from the hands of the a.s.sistant burgomaster a dark-red _etui_, from which he a wreath of oak-leaves, worked in silver, which he presented to Gotzkowsky. ”John Gotzkowsky,” said he, solemnly, ”the Council and citizens of Berlin request you, through me, to accept this memorial of their love and grat.i.tude. It is the civic crown of your magnanimity. Receive it from our hands, and accept also our vow that we will never forget what you have done for the town of Berlin.”
Tears of delight, of heart-felt joy stood in Gotzkowsky's eyes as he took the oaken crown from his hands, and glowing words of grat.i.tude poured from his lips.
Not far off, in a niche of a window of the hall, stood Messrs. Krause and Kretschmer, with sullen looks, witnessing the homage paid to Gotzkowsky, their souls filled with envy and rage. They, too, had come to thank him, but with unwilling hearts, because they could not be well absent from the festivities which the whole town offered him. But they were vexed to see this man, whom they hated from the bottom of their hearts, because of their obligations to him, so universally honored and beloved. It annoyed them to see the pleasant and affable smile with which the otherwise proud burgomaster conversed with him; to see with what cordial friends.h.i.+p the senators and councilmen surrounded him.
”I came hither,” said Mr. Krause, softly, ”to thank Gotzkowsky for saving us, but I must confess it worries me to see him so glorified.”
Mr. Kretschmer shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. ”Let them praise him,” said he; ”the _Vossian Gazette_ will not notice it, and I will not write the smallest article on this occasion. As for the service he rendered us--well, certainly, it would have been unpleasant to have been flogged, but then we would have been martyrs to our liberal opinions; the whole world would have admired and pitied us, and the king would not have refused us a pension.”
”Certainly,” whispered Mr. Krause, ”he would have granted us a pension, and the whipping would have made us famous. It has never been forgotten of the English poet, Payne, that King Charles the First had his ears cut off, because he wrote against him. He is not celebrated for his writings, but for his chopped ears. We, too, might have become famous if this Gotzkowsky had not, in the most uncalled-for manner, interfered, and--but look!” cried he, interrupting himself, ”the interview with the Council is finished, and it is now our turn to thank him.”
The two editors hastened toward him in order, in well-arranged speech, and with a.s.surances of eternal grat.i.tude, to offer their thanks.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A ROYAL LETTER.
Mr. Krause had not yet finished the declamation of the poem which his inspiration had produced in honor of Gotzkowsky, when a loud noise was heard at the door of the hall, and Gotzkowsky's body-servant rushed in. A messenger of the Council was without, he announced; a letter had just arrived from the king, and, as he was to deliver it to the burgomaster in person, the messenger had brought him here. He handed Herr von Kircheisen a letter, and the latter broke the seal with majestic composure.
A pause of anxious expectation ensued. Each one inquired of himself with trembling heart what could be the meaning of this royal letter.
The countenance of the chief magistrate grew more and more cheerful, and suddenly he called aloud: ”This is indeed a message of gladness for our poor town. The king, our gracious lord, releases us from our obligation to pay the promised war-tax of a million and a half. He wishes to retaliate for the Wurzburg and Bamberg bonds captured from the Aulic Council. For which reason his majesty's order is that we do not pay.”
A single cry of joy sounded from the lips of all present. Gotzkowsky alone was silent, with downcast eyes, and his earnest, pensive expression contrasted strongly with the bright, joyous countenances which were illuminated by the order of the king to keep their money.
Among the happiest and most radiant, however, were the rich mint farmers Ephraim and Itzig, and the chief burgomaster.
”The royal decree relieves our town of a horrible burden,” said Herr von Kircheisen, with a happy smile.
”The whole mercantile community must be grateful to the king,” cried Ephraim. ”Berlin saves a million and a half, and the Russian is sold.”
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