Part 48 (2/2)

”He is right,” murmured Gotzkowsky, as the huzzas sounded under his window. ”He is right! I was a fool to love mankind.”

Ephraim pointed down into the street again. ”See,” said he, ”there comes Count Salm, whom you saved from death when the Russians were here. He does not look up here. Ah, there goes the banker, Splittyerber, whose factories in Neustadt Eberswald you saved at the same time. He, too, does not look up. Oh! yes, he does, and laughs.

Look there! There goes the king with his staff. You have caused his majesty much pleasure. You accomplished his favorite wish--you founded the porcelain factory. You travelled at your own expense into Italy, and bought pictures for him. You preserved his capital from pillage by the Austrians and Russians. The Dutch amba.s.sador, who at that time interfered in favor of Berlin with the Austrians, him has the king in his grat.i.tude created a count. What has he done for you? What Verelse did was but a trifle in comparison with your services, yet he, forsooth, is made a count. What has the king done for you? See, the king and his staff has pa.s.sed by, and not one of them has looked up here. Yesterday they would have done so, for yesterday you were rich; but to-day they have forgotten you already: for to-day you are poor, and the memory of the people is very short for the poor. Ah! look down again, Gotzkowsky--so many gentlemen, so many high-born people are pa.s.sing! Not one looks up!”

Against his will Gotzkowsky had been drawn to the window, and, enticed by Ephraim's words, he had looked down anxiously and mournfully at the brilliant procession which was pa.s.sing by. How much would he not have given if only one of the many who had formerly called themselves his friends had looked up at him, had greeted him cordially? But Ephraim was right. No one did so. No one thought of him who, with a broken heart, was leaning beside the window, asking of mankind no longer a.s.sistance or help, but a little love and sympathy. But, as he looked down into the street again, his countenance suddenly brightened up.

He laid his hand hastily on Ephraim's shoulder, and pointed to the procession.

”You are right,” said he; ”the respectable people do not look up here, but here comes the end of the procession, the common people, the poor and lowly, the workmen. Look at them! See how they are gazing at me.

Ah, they see me, they greet me, they wave their hats! There, one of them is putting his hand to his face. He is a day-laborer who formerly worked in my factory. This man is weeping, and because he knows that I have been unfortunate. See! here come others--poor people in ragged clothes--women with nurslings in their arms--tottering old men--they all bend dewy eyes on me. Do you see? they smile at me. Even the children stretch up their arms. Ah, they love me, although I am no longer rich.”

And turning with a beaming face and eyes moistened with tears toward Ephraim, he exclaimed: ”You tell me that I have miscalculated. No!

you are mistaken. I calculated on the kernel of humanity, not on the degenerate sh.e.l.l. And this n.o.ble kernel of humanity resides in the people, the workmen, and the poor. I trusted in these, and they have not betrayed my confidence.”

Ephraim shrugged his shoulders. ”The people are weatherc.o.c.ks; they will stone to-morrow the same men whom they bless to-day. Only wait until public opinion has condemned you, and the people, too, will forsake you. Protect yourself, then, against men. When you were rich, every one partook of your liberality; now that you are poor, no one will be willing to share your misfortune. Therefore save yourself, I tell you. Collect whatever papers and valuables you may have. Give them to me. By the G.o.d of my fathers I will preserve them faithfully and honestly for you!”

Gotzkowsky repulsed him with scorn, and indignant anger flashed from his countenance. ”Back from me, tempter!” cried he, proudly. ”It is true you possess the wisdom of the world, but one thing is wanting in your wisdom--the spirit of honor. I know that this does not trouble you much, but to me it is every thing. You are right: I will be a beggar, and men will point at me with their finger, and laugh me to scorn. But I will pa.s.s them by proudly, nor will I bend my head before them, for my dignity and honor as a man are unconnected with gold or property. These are my own, and when I die, on my tomb will be written--'He died in poverty, but he was an honorable man.'”

”Fool that you are!” exclaimed Ephraim, laughing in contempt. ”You are speculating on your epitaph, while the fortune of your life slips away from you. Take my advice: there is yet time to secure your future.”

”Never, if it is to be accomplished by frauds!”

”Think of your daughter.”

A painful quivering flitted across Gotzkowsky's face. ”Who gives you a right to remind me of her?” asked he angrily. ”Do not soil her name by p.r.o.nouncing it. I have nothing in common with you.”

”Yes, you have, though,” said Ephraim with a wicked smile. ”You have done me a good deed, and I am thankful. That is something in common.”

Gotzkowsky did not answer him. He crossed the room hastily, and stepped to his writing-table, out of a secret drawer of which he drew a dark-red case. He opened it and s.n.a.t.c.hed out the diamond ring that was contained in it.

”I do not wish your grat.i.tude,” said he, turning to Ephraim, anger flas.h.i.+ng from his countenance--”and if you could offer me all the treasures of the world, I would throw them to the earth, as I do this ring!” And he cast down the costly jewel at Ephraim's feet.

The latter raised it coolly from the ground and examined it carefully.

He then broke out into a loud, scornful laugh. ”This is the ring which the Jews presented to you when you procured our exemption from the war-tax. You give it to me?”

”I give it to you, and with it a curse on the tempter of my honor!”

”You repulse me, then? You will have none of my grat.i.tude?”

”Yes; if your hand could save me from the abyss, I would reject it!”

”Let it be so, then,” said Ephraim; and his face a.s.sumed an expression of hatred and malice--for now it could be perceived that the rich Ephraim was again overcome by Gotzkowsky, although the latter was a poor and shattered man. His sympathy and his help had only met with a proud refusal from him whom he had not succeeded in humbling and dragging down to the dust.

”Let it be so, then!” he repeated, gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth. ”You will not have it otherwise. I take the ring,” and looking at Gotzkowsky maliciously, he continued: ”With this ring I will buy you a place in the churchyard, that the dishonored bankrupt may, at least, find an honorable grave, and not be shovelled in like De Neufville the suicide!”

”What do you say--De Neufville is dead?” cried Gotzkowsky, hurrying after him as he neared the door, and seizing him violently by the arm.

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