“I do look into your eyes, son of my heart,” said Leuchtmar, deeply moved.  “I look through your eyes into your soul, into your heart, and read therein great determination and heroic aims.  Strive after them, my favorite, and when the present seems to you dark and gloomy, then lift your eye to the glittering star, which hovers over you and is your future.  To endure evil, and still to remain joyful and valiant, therein lies true heroism.  To turn from the dust of earthly needs, to step over it with head held heavenward, thereby is true faith proved.  God bless you, my son!  Be brave, be wise, be true!  Trust in yourself, your friends, your people, and your God; then is the future yours, and you will overcome all your foes, and will triumph over the proud man who now thinks that he triumphs over you.  I said to you, be brave, be wise, be true.  I forgot one thing, though, which I shall now add—­be circumspect!  Remember that oftentimes it is not the sword which carries off the victory, but cunning; remember Brutus, who freed Rome.”

“Oh, my friend, you have spoken truth,” exclaimed the Prince; “you have read to the bottom of my soul, and understood my inmost thoughts.  Now am I glad and full of confidence, for my friend and teacher will never doubt me.  And hear one thing more, my Leuchtmar.  You must accept a memento of this hour, a memento which I prepared even before my departure from The Hague, and which shall be to you a proof of my gratitude.  I am poor and powerless, and as I build all my hopes upon the future, so must I do with my presents as well.  You must accept from me a gift of my future, friend.  I know full well that what you have done for me can not be recompensed, but I would so gladly testify my gratitude to you, and therefore I give you this paper!”

He drew forth a paper from his pocketbook, and handed it to Leuchtmar with a friendly smile.  “Take it and read,” he said.

Baron Leuchtmar von Kalkhun took the paper, and fastened his eyes upon the words, which were inscribed in large letters on the outside.

“A Deed of Expectancy!” he said, astonished.

The Electoral Prince nodded.  “A deed of expectancy, written with my own hand and sealed with my own signet ring.  Yes, yes, my friend, I have nothing to give away but expectations; yet if the Electoral Prince should ever become Elector, he will convert these expectations into reality and truth.  Now unfold the paper, and see what manner of expectation it holds out.”

“An act, donating the feudal tenure of Neuenhof, lying within the territories of Cleves!” cried Leuchtmar joyfully.  “Oh, my dear Prince, that is truly a princely gift!”