sibly be--could it be John Gotzkowsky, the celebrated banker, the
honored and bright hero of the Exchange, the money-king before whom
all Europe bowed down?

An expression of malicious joy stole over Itzig's face; but he
suppressed it immediately, for the last words of his prayer still
floated around his lips, and somewhat purified them. "Ah!" said he, in
a friendly tone, as he stepped toward Gotzkowsky, stretching out both
his hands to him, "the great and powerful John Gotzkowsky does me the
honor to visit me. What joy for my humble house!"

Gotzkowsky did not allow himself to be misled by this seeming
politeness. He observed him with sharp and penetrating eyes, and then
proudly said: "Listen, Itzig; let us be candid with each other. You
know the reports which are current about me in the city and on the
Bourse."

"I know them, but do not believe them," cried Itzig, with an altered,
earnest mien. "Yes, I know these reports, and I know too what they
are worth. They are a speculation of Ephraim, that your notes may
be depreciated, that he may buy them in at a low rate. I know that
Gotzkowsky is a rich man; and a rich man has judgment, and whoever
has judgment is prudent--does not venture much, nor stand security for
other people."

"I have perhaps less of this judgment than you think," said
Gotzkowsky. "It may be that I have stood security."

"Then you will certainly know how to pay?" said Itzig, with a forced
laugh.

"But how if I cannot pay?" said Gotzkowsky, sadly.

Itzig stepped back, and gazed at him horrified.

"If I cannot pay," continued Gotzkowsky, impressively; "if I am
unable to pay half a million for Leipsic, another half million for the
Russian claims, after having lost the same amount yesterday by the new
treasury ordinance--what would you say to that, Itzig?"

Itzig listened to him with increasing terror, and gradually his
features assumed an expression of hatred and savage rage. When
Gotzkowsky had finished, he raised his clasped hands to heaven, as if
imploring the wrath of God on the head of the sinner. "My God! sir,
are you, then, going to fail?"

Gotzkowsky seized his hand, and looked into his quivering face with
an expression of intense anxiety. "Listen to me, Itzig. I may yet be
saved; every thing depends upon my obtaining a delay, that my credit
may not be shaken. You are rich--"

"No, I am poor," interrupted Itzig, vehemently. "I am perfectly poor;
I have nothing but what I earn."