in my heart, that I was convinced He would open the heavens, and reach to me with His own hand the food for which I prayed.  I waited and waited, in despairing anxiety, but the heavens were not opened, and not even a drop of rain came to cool my parched lips.  But the cloud, which I had looked for in vain in the sky, was seen at last on the highway, and, as I saw this whirling cloud of dust, in the midst of which a splendid equipage came rolling on, I said to myself:  ‘Here comes God!’ and then I found strength enough to raise myself from my knees, to hurry toward the rapidly passing vehicle, and to cry with a voice which was almost overpowered by the noise of the wheels, ’Pity! pity! give me a morsel of bread, a drop of water!  Have pity on me!’ A hand was stretched toward me out of the cloud of dust, and I saw a small, brightly shining object drop.  The carriage rolled on, and disappeared in its cloud.  But I sank on my knees and searched the dust for the piece of money, for in this coin lay for me life, health, and strength.  I was obliged to hunt in the dust for a long time with hands tremulous with anxiety, and finally, when I found it, I rejoiced aloud and thanked God.  Then I hurried with fleet steps toward the neighboring town, to the same baker’s shop near the gate, where, shortly before, they had refused to my entreaties a bit of bread.  Now, willingly and with smiles, they handed me a loaf, for I had money to pay for it.  In that hour I said to myself:  ’I must seek money, even if I have to grovel in the dust for it; for money is life, and poverty is death!’ The hand which, from the cloud of dust threw me that piece of money, decided my whole future, for it taught me that even dust was not to be despised, as therein money might be found; but it taught me something more—­it taught me compassion and charity.  Then, as I crouched down with bleeding feet at the street-corner and devoured my loaf, I vowed to myself that I would become rich, and when I had grown rich, to be to each poor and needy one the helping hand stretched forth out of the cloud of dust.”

Elise had listened to her father with deep emotion, and in the depth of her heart she at this moment absolved him from many a silent reproach, and many a suspicion, which her soul had harbored against him.

“You have kept your word, my father!” cried she.  “How did you contrive to become a rich man from a beggar?”

Gotzkowsky laughed.  “How did I contrive that?” said he.  “I worked, that is the whole secret—­worked from sunrise until late in the night, and by work alone have I become what I am.  But no, I had one friend who often helped me with his sympathy and valuable counsel.  This friend was the king.  He protected me against my malicious enemies, who envied me every little piece of fortune.  He cheered me on.  Frederick’s eye rested on me with pleasure, and he was delighted to see my manufactories thrive and increase.  The king’s satisfaction was for many years the