le 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 shell. And this noble 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 weathercocks; 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 God 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 pass 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
pronouncing 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