The Merchant of Berlin | Page 8

is nothing without the worker; the one has need of the other, to
increase and thrive. Of what avail would my looms and my money be if
I had not your industrious hands and your good will to serve me?
Money alone will not do it, but the good will and love of the workmen
carry the day. I thank you all for your good will and your love; but
above all," continued he, turning to Bertram, "above all things I must
thank you, my friend. You have stood by me and helped me bravely,
and it is full time that I should try to reward you. Children, one more
surprise have I in reserve for you to-day. I appoint Mr. Bertram my
partner and sole director of the silk factory." "That's right, that's noble!"
cried the workmen.
Bertram said nothing. He only turned his eyes, clouded with tears,
toward Gotzkowsky, and the latter read in his looks his deep emotion
and affectionate gratitude.
"My son," said he, opening his arms.
"My father, oh my dear, noble father," cried the young man, throwing
himself, with streaming eyes, on Gotzkowsky's breast. The workmen
stood round, deeply moved, and in silence; and in their hearts they sent
up quiet prayers to God on high for their employer. At last Gotzkowsky
raised himself from Bertram's arms and sought his daughter with his
eyes. She was still sitting, silent and pensive, at the table, and did not
appear to have observed what was going on around her. A light cloud
crossed his brow as he took Bertram's hand and approached Elise.
"Well, Elise, have you no word of congratulation for him?"
She shuddered, as if awaking from a dream. "Oh," said she, "my good
brother Bertram knows that I rejoice in his fortune."

"Brother! still brother?" murmured Gotzkowsky impatiently.
"And why should she not give me that sweet name?" asked Bertram,
quickly. "Have you not often called me son, and allowed me to call you
father?"
"Oh, I would like indeed to be your father, my son, without Elise's
having to call you brother. But we will speak of this another time," said
he, interrupting himself; and turning to his workmen, continued: "Come,
let us be merry, and of good cheer. Who knows how long Heaven will
grant us sunshine? Come, you young folks, I have caused a target to be
set up in the court. Let us go there. He who makes the best shot shall
get a new coat. Come, bride Greta, take my arm; I will be your
groomsman to-day. Bertram, you and Elise follow us. Now, music,
strike up a song for the bride."
Gotzkowsky offered his arm to the bride and led her out. Cheerfully the
motley crowd followed him, and soon there was heard in the distance
their happy laughter and the merry sound of the music.
* * * * *

CHAPTER III.
BROTHER AND SISTER.
Elise did not follow the joyous multitude. She still sat musing, unaware
that Bertram was standing opposite to her, considering her attentively.
At last he ventured to pronounce her name softly. She looked up at him
with perfect composure.
"You do not go with them, Elise?" asked he. "Do you not take any part
in the general rejoicing?"
She tried to smile. "Oh yes," said she, "I am glad to see how much
these good people love my father. And he deserves it too. The welfare

of his workmen is his only thought, and the only fame for which he
strives."
"You are too modest in your estimate of your father, Elise," cried
Bertram. "Gotzkowsky's fame extends far beyond the walls of this town.
All Germany, yes, even Holland and England, are familiar with his
name, and the Prussian merchant is as much a hero on "'Change' as the
Prussian king is on the battle-field."
"Only my father's victories are less bloody," said Elise, smiling.
A pause ensued. Both felt anxious and embarrassed, and neither dared
to break the silence. It was the first time, since Bertram's return from
his grand tour, that she had found herself in his presence without
witnesses, for she had carefully avoided being alone with him. This had
not escaped Bertram's notice, and he had therefore determined to take
advantage of the present opportunity to have his fate decided. But yet
he did not venture to speak, and the words died away on his lips as he
remarked her silent, indifferent composure. As he contemplated her,
memories of former days rose up before him. He saw her as, half child,
half maiden, she clung trustingly and affectionately to his side, and
with charming blushes listened to the teasing jokes of her father. Then
her whole soul lay open and clear before him; then she disclosed to him