“And why reproach yourself that you provide no one with daily bread?  Man does not live by bread alone; and by simply being what you are, you supply many people—­myself for instance—­with a pleasure in life and a belief in your future career that is worth more than daily bread.

“Bhani thanks you for your kind message.  She incloses two verses for you, of her own composition.  Here you have them in prose translation—­’My beloved master and his humble handmaid miss the dear friend with the soft eyes and gentle voice.  We live as in a bungalow in the season of rains—­clouds and ever clouds, and no sun.  When will the sky be blue, and the sunshine come again? and when wilt thou eat rice once more at the table of my lord?’ In the original it certainly sounds much prettier.

“Let me know soon what you think of doing, and be assured of the hearty affection of your old

“Schrotter.

“Postscript:  Just read the enclosed extract from my to-day’s Times.  That man’s development was as logical as Haber’s.”

In the letter Wilhelm found, beside Bhani’s poem, written in delicate Sanscrit characters on yellow paper, a cutting from an English newspaper, in which he read that a Nihilist of the name of Barinskoi, in St. Petersburg, had for some time excited the suspicions of his confederates by his luxurious and showy style of living.  In order to discover the source from which he drew the money for it, they appointed one of their female members to be his mistress.  She had shared in his extravagances, and soon obtained proofs that he was in the service of the police, and sold his fellow Nihilists.  A secret court condemned him to death, and a few days ago he had been found dead in his rooms, his throat cut, and his body literally hacked to pieces.

In January Wilhelm received an unusual visitor.  It was a leader of the workingmen of Altona, who told him, without further circumlocution, that the Socialists had kept their eye upon him, had found out where he was living, and now sent him, the Altona man, to see if anything could be made of him.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Wilhelm in astonishment.

“I mean,” returned the visitor, who had introduced himself as Stonemason Hessel, “whether you could not be persuaded to join us openly.”

As Wilhelm did not answer at once, Hessel resumed—­“Our party needs men like you, who are independent and bold, have a university education, and speak well.  You are all that, as we know.  By banishing you from Berlin they have, in point of fact, made you one of us.  So go a step further, Herr Doctor; defend yourself, take up the fight the government has forced upon you.  You have a million of determined workmen at your back, who will gladly accept you as their leader.”

“Excuse my frankness,” said Wilhelm at last, “but I really cannot think you are serious in your proposal.”

“It is a very serious matter to us,” cried Hessel.  “I speak in the name of the heads of the party, and have means of convincing you of the reality of my proposal if you have any doubts about it.”