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The general stood at the window, looking into the street. Perhaps he was waiting for Gotzkowsky to give vent to his warm and delighted grat.i.tude before he took leave. But Gotzkowsky did neither the one nor the other. He remained with folded arms, his countenance full of earnest courage and bold determination.
"I will finish what I have commenced," said he to himself. "I will keep my word, and not move from the spot before I have pleaded for all those to whom I promised my a.s.sistance. The general is at liberty to curse my importunity, if I only do my duty toward my fellow-citizens."
As he still remained silent, Tottleben turned toward him laughingly.
"What," said he, "are you dumb? Is your eloquence exhausted? Indeed, when I think of all that you have got out of me to-day, it almost makes me smile." And he broke out into a merry, good-natured laugh.
"Well, laugh, sir," said Gotzkowsky, "I know you are fond of a laugh.
For example, you have just played a little joke on the Jews, and made them believe that they have to pay an imposition--"
"Made believe?" interrupted Tottleben, hastily. "Man! be satisfied that I have remitted two millions to the citizens. Don't speak up now for the Jews."
"But the Jews are a part of the citizens."
"Are you crazy, man?" cried Tottleben, violently. "Is the Jew a citizen with you?"
"Yes," answered Gotzkowsky, "as far as paying goes. The Jew is obliged honestly to contribute his proportion of the war-tax. How can you, with any semblance of justice, require of him another further tax, when he has already, in common with us, given up all he possesses?"
"Sir," cried Tottleben, with suppressed vexation "this is enough, and more than enough!"
"No," said Gotzkowsky, smiling. "It is too much. The Jews are not able to pay it--"
"I will remit their contribution," cried the general, stamping violently on the floor, "to please you--just to get rid of you--but now--"
"But now," interrupted Gotzkowsky, insinuatingly, "one more favor."
The general stepped back astounded, and looked at Gotzkowsky with a species of comical terror. "Do you know that I am almost afraid of you, and will thank G.o.d when you are gone?"
"Then you think of me as the whole town of Berlin thinks of you," said Gotzkowsky.
The general laughed. "Your impudence is astonishing. Well, quick, what is your last request?"
"They are preparing at the New Market a rare and unheard-of spectacle--a spectacle, general, as yet unknown in Germany. You have brought it with you from Russia. You are going to make two men run the gantlet of rods--not two soldiers convicted of crime, but two writers, who have only sinned in spirit against you, who have only exercised the free and highest right of man--_the right to say what they think_.
You are going to have two newspaper writers scourged, because they drew their quills against you. Is not that taking a barbarous revenge for a small offence?"
"A small offence," cried the general, whose countenance had resumed its dark, fierce expression. "Come, that's enough. Stop, if you do not wish me to take back all that I have granted you. Do you call that a small offence? Why, sir, the editor of _Spener's Journal_ called me an adventurer, a renegade. Ah! he at least shall feel that I have the power of punishing."
"Why," said Gotzkowsky calmly, "that would only prove to him that he had hit you on a tender spot."
"And the scribbler of the _Vossian Gazette_, did he not venture even to attack my gracious empress?" continued Tottleben, perfectly carried away by his indignation. "He wrote a conversation between peasants, and in it he made fun of the empress. He even went so far as to make his own king join in the dirty talk, in the character of a peasant.
Sir, I am very much surprised that you should defend a man who carries his impudence so far as to canva.s.s and scandalize the conduct of his own king in such a disrespectful and audacious manner."
"The king is great enough to be able to bear this calumny of little minds. Whosoever is truly great, is not afraid of free speaking nor of calumny. Have you never heard the story of how the king was riding by, where the people were collected at the corner of a street, stretching out their necks to read a pasquinade which had been hung on the wall, and was directed against the king himself? The king reigned in his horse, and read the hand-bill. The people stood in silent terror, for the paper contained a sharp abuse of the king, and a libel on him in verse. What does your excellency think the king did when he had read this most treasonable placard?"
"He had the mob cut it down, as it deserved to be, and the author strung up on the gallows," cried Tottleben.
"Not at all, sir," replied Gotzkowsky. "He said, 'Let the paper be hung lower; the people can't see to read it up so high.' He then saluted the crowd, and rode off, laughing."
"Did the _great Fritz_ do that?" said Tottleben, unconsciously using the epithet which the Prussian people had applied to their king.
"He did it _because_ he is great," replied Gotzkowsky.
"Strange, hard to believe," muttered the general, folding his arms, and striding up and down. After a pause, Gotzkowsky inquired, "Would you not like to emulate the great king, general?"
Count Tottleben awoke from his reverie. Approaching Gotzkowsky, he laid his hand upon his shoulder; his expression was indescribably mild and gentle, and a melancholy smile played around his lips. "Hark'ee, I believe it would do me good if we could be always together. Come with me. Settle in Russia. The empress has heard of you, and I know that she would be rejoiced if you came to Petersburg. Do it. You can make a large fortune there. The empress's favor will elevate you, and she will not let you want for orders or a t.i.tle."
Gotzkowsky could hardly suppress a smile of contempt. "Orders for me!
A t.i.tle! What would I do with them? Sir, I am more powerful than all your counts, for the greatness of the n.o.bility lies in the past, in mouldering ancestors; but the greatness of the manufacturer lies in the future, and the future belongs to industry. I founded the first large factories here in Berlin, and the manufacturers who come after me can call me their ancestor. No other n.o.bility do I desire, count."
"You would then be capable of refusing a count's t.i.tle?" asked Tottleben, in astonishment.
Gotzkowsky shrugged his shoulders. "If I had wished for n.o.bility I could long ago have bought a countship of the holy German empire, for such things are for sale, and thirty thousand ducats is the highest price for a count's t.i.tle; and as for the orders, my own ribbon-factory turns out the ribbons for them."
General Tottleben looked at him for a long time in mild astonishment.
"You are a wonderful man, and I wish I were like you. If I had thought as you do, my life would have been a less stormy one, and less tossed by care and restlessness. I would have--"
The general was interrupted by the hasty entrance of the adjutant.
He was the bearer of dispatches brought by a courier who had just arrived. The courier, he said, had ridden so hard, that his horse had fallen dead on his arrival.
Tottleben tore open the dispatches and read them rapidly. His countenance immediately lost its former expression of mildness and gentleness. His German heart was silenced by the will of the Russian general.
He seemed to forget Gotzkowsky's presence, and turning to his adjutant, with proud military bearing, he said: "These dispatches contain important and surprising information. They announce that the Prussian army is drawing on in forced marches, with the king at its head. We cannot give him battle here, and must, in consequence, arrange for a rapid retreat from Berlin. Call all the generals and staff-officers together. Let the alarm be sounded. In three hours the whole army must have left the city. And, further, summon the Town Council to the New Market, that we may take our leave, for we must not leave Berlin as fugitives, but as conquerors, who are proceeding on their march."
"And the poor editors who are to be flogged?" asked Gotzkowsky, when the adjutant had left.
The general smiled, as he took Gotzkowsky amicably by the hand.
"We will hang them a little lower," said he, significantly. "Come, accompany us to the market-place!"
NOTE.--Count von Tottleben expiated his clemency toward Berlin very dearly. A few months later he was sent to Petersburg under arrest, accused princ.i.p.ally of having behaved too leniently and too much in the German interest for a Russian general.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE EXECUTION.
The morning was cold and rainy, the wind howled down the empty streets, rattling the windows, and slamming the open house-doors.
Surely the weather was but little suited for going out, and yet the Berlin citizens were to be seen flocking toward the New Market in crowds, regardless of wind and rain.
The Berliners have, from time immemorial, been an inquisitive race, and where any thing is to be seen, there they rush. But this day there was to be a rare spectacle at the New Market.
The editors of the two newspapers were to run the gantlet; and besides, General von Tottleben had summoned the Town Council and Jews thither, to receive his last orders and resolutions before he left Berlin. People were, therefore, very much excited, and curious to witness this double show, and in their eagerness they forgave the hostile general, who had prepared such a delightful entertainment for them, all the terrors of the last few days. Two gentlemen--two learned men--were to be flogged. That was, indeed, a precious and delightful sight for cold, hungry, ragged poverty, which always takes delight in seeing those whom fortune has favored, suffer and smart.
How often had these shoemakers and tailors worried and fretted themselves over their pot of beer, that the newspaper writers should have had the hardihood and stupidity to write so violently against the Russians, without taking into account that the Russians would one day occupy Berlin, and take revenge on its innocent citizens! It served these newspaper writers quite right that they should be punished for their arrogance. And, besides, the good people would see the Russian general and his staff, and the grand Town Council and the chief magistrate, who, in his golden chain and his robes of office, was to hand over to the hostile general a present of ten thousand ducats.
The Berliners were, therefore, quite happy, and delighted to hear the hollow sound of the drum, and the Russian word of command.