Scarcely had the Jewish deputation left Gotzkowsky’s house, before he betook himself, full of the important information received from General Bachmann, to General Tottleben’s residence, fully determined to venture every thing to prevent the execution of the cruel order which threatened the factories and other branches of industry.  But this was not the sole object which led him there.  He went there as a representative of the whole town.  Every one who needed assistance applied to him, and to each one he had promised to intercede for him.  Laden with petitions and commissions from the magistracy, the merchants, and the citizens of Berlin, he entered the Russian general’s quarters.  Deeply inspired with the importance of his commission, he traversed the halls which led to the general’s private apartments, saying to himself, “This is the most important mission I have ever undertaken, for the welfare of the whole town depends upon it—­a million dollars depend upon every word I may utter.  Many a struggle have I had in these days, but this is the hardest of them all, and victory hangs on my tongue.”

With beaming countenance and sparkling eyes, with his whole being animated with the sacredness of his office, he entered the cabinet of the Russian general.  Tottleben did not offer him, as heretofore, a friendly welcome.  He did not even raise his eyes from the dispatches which he was in the act of reading, and his contracted brows and the whole expression of his countenance was such as to discourage any petition or pleading.  At this moment General von Tottleben was a true Russian, and, thanks to General Fermore’s dispatches, he had succeeded in suppressing his German sympathy.  At least he flattered himself that he had, and for that reason he avoided meeting Gotzkowsky’s clear, bright eye.

Without taking any notice, he finished reading the papers, and then rose and walked about the room.  After a while he seemed as if by accident to perceive Gotzkowsky’s presence, and stopped short.  “Have you come back already?” he asked in a sullen, grumbling tone.  “I know very well that you have returned to beg for all sorts of useless trash; I can’t bear such eternal begging and whining—­a pitiful rabble that is all the time creeping to our feet.”

“Yes, your excellency, it is nothing but a poor, pitiful rabble,” said Gotzkowsky with a smile; “and for this very reason the Russians are despised all over Europe.  Toward the high and mighty they behave like fawning hounds, and toward the low and humble they are rude and arrogant.”

“I am not speaking of the Russians,” cried the general, as he turned his lowering countenance toward Gotzkowsky, “I am speaking of you.  All day long you have done nothing but beg and demand.”

But Gotzkowsky met him with quiet and smiling composure.  “Pardon, your excellency, it is you who demand; and because you are all the time demanding, I must all the time be begging.  And, in fact, I am only begging for yourself.”