ier heart than I will have when I sign
it to this affidavit, which will procure for us both the heart-felt
blessings of so many children."

He stepped to the general's writing-table, and, following his
direction, seated himself and wrote.

Tottleben in the mean while walked up and down pensively, his arms
folded. His features wore a thoughtful and mild expression. No trace
of the late angry storm was visible. Once he stopped, and murmured
in a low voice: "Orphans one dare not plunder. Elizabeth has a tender
heart, and if she learns the reason of my disobedience, she will be
content. Yes, my course is the right one."

"I have finished, sir," said Gotzkowsky, standing up and handing him
the paper on which he had written.

Tottleben read it over carefully, and laid it alongside of the
dispatches to his empress. He then called to his adjutant and ordered
him immediately to place strong safeguards over the gold and silver
manufactories and the warehouse, and to protect these against any
attack.

Gotzkowsky clasped his hands, and directed his eyes to heaven with
joyful gratitude, and in the deep emotion of his heart he did not
perceive that the general again stood before him, and was looking at
him with inquiring sympathy. His voice first awakened him from his
reverie. "Are you contented now?" asked Tottleben, in a friendly tone.

"Content, general," said Gotzkowsky, shaking his head, "only belongs
to him who lies in his coffin."

Again the general's brow grew dark. "What is troubling you now? Don't
hesitate--"

"To speak on, your excellency?" inquired Gotzkowsky, with a gentle
smile.

"No--to put yourself in your coffin," answered the other, rudely.

"I have not time for that, as yet," replied Gotzkowsky, sadly. "Both
of us, general, have still too much to do. You have to add fresh
laurels to your old ones--I have to clear thistles and thorns from the
path of my fellow-men."

"Ah! there are more thorns, then?" asked Tottleben, as he sank down
into a chair, and regarded Gotzkowsky with evident benevolence.

"A great many yet, sir," answered Gotzkowsky, sighing. "Our whole body
is bloody from them."

"Then call on the regimental surgeon to cure you," said Tottleben,
with a coarse laugh.

"You only can cure us," said Gotzkowsky, seriously, "for only you are
able to inflict such severe wounds. You are not satisfied with having
conquered and humiliated us, but you wish to tread us in the dust, and
make our che