found them deaf to the voice of honor, I let them hear
the words of cowardly prudence. I painted to them the horrors awaiting
them if the enemy perchance should return as conquerors, and what a
fearful revenge they would take on the perjured city. I reminded them
that the enemy would immediately attack all our property in Courland,
Dantzic, and Livonia, and that at the Russian headquarters they had
threatened me that they would publish, us in all the open commercial
marts as issuers of false bonds."

"You were then in the Russian camp?"

"A fortnight ago, sire. The Council of Berlin requested me to
undertake this journey to complete the transactions left unfinished by
the rapid retreat of General von Tottleben."

"And did you finish them?"

"I was obliged to give General Tottleben a written agreement that
I would return in four weeks to the Russian camp to carry out the
transactions in the name of these merchants."

"I have been told that the Russian general would not accept the bonds
for the war-tax unless you indorsed them. Is that true, too?"

"It is true."

"And what did you do?"

"I indorsed them."

The king's eye lighted up with friendship and kindness. "D'Argens is
right," said he. "Cornelius Nepos and Livy would have mentioned you in
their writings." And he paced up and down the room in deep thought.

A long pause ensued. Finally, Gotzkowsky was bold enough to break it.
"And the tax, your majesty, may we pay it?"

The king stopped in front of him. "The tax shall be paid," said he
curtly; but, as Gotzkowsky was about to break out in loud expressions
of gratitude, the king waved him off with his hand. "That is," said
he, "I myself will pay it, if it cannot be otherwise. Go back into the
Russian camp, as you have promised. Endeavor to get some abatement of
the amount, or some other profitable terms; but if you do not succeed,
well, I will have to pay this million and a half for Berlin. But in
return you must grant me a favor."

"What, sire? Whatever it may be," cried Gotzkowsky, ardently, "I am
ready to perform any service for your majesty, even to the sacrifice
of my life."

The king smiled. "Oh, no! not quite so bad as that, although the
service I ask of you is more difficult to most men than dying--I
mean _keeping silence_." And as he laid his hand affectionately on
Gotzkowsky's shoulder, he continued: "Betray to no one what I have
said to you, and only at the very last moment, if it is absolut