“Kotikokura—happy—” he grumbled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Ca-ta-pha—god!”

“Well, we shall forget all about it. What are a few years in a life as long as ours? An hour of unpleasantness—that is all.”

He nodded.

“Now, however, it is time for us to leave this half-barbarous nation to her fate. Our Tsar is no longer the charming man who won our hearts in Holland. Tomorrow, dressed as two ordinary noblemen, we leave for the West.”

Our departure was hardly noticed. My shadowy position had become more shadowy for some time. Indeed, it was difficult to know who was in power and who merely wore the trappings of officers. My banks, however, were firmly established. They were owned by myself under many names,—a much safer way.

As we crossed the frontier into Sweden, I raised my arms and breathed deeply.

“Let us thank the Eternal God, the God of Spinoza, that we escaped whole from the jaws of the Bear. Few have accomplished that feat!”

Kotikokura doubled up and made the sign of my godhood.

LXXVII: THE THRONE OF THE GOLDEN CALF—I MAKE A DEAL WITH MAYER-ANSELM ROTHSCHILD

“KOTIKOKURA, Ca-ta-pha shall rule man more truly than all the other gods for he shall be the master of his bread and of his roof. Ca-ta-pha shall be worshiped by every man, woman, and child. For as soon as he is able to articulate words and until he utters his last sound, man worships money. Ca-ta-pha shall be the god of money!”

“Ca-ta-pha god always.”

“You were right, Kotikokura. You guessed the true nature of your master. What if his worshipers supplanted him by the cross? The whole world shall bend the knee and pray—oh, how fervently! They shall worship the Golden Calf, but the Golden Calf shall be my puppet. I am its master!

“Where are your medals, Kotikokura?”

Kotikokura lowered his head.

“I did not mean to reprimand you, my friend. I need your medals. They will serve as passports for us, and open many doors. For a long time to come, we shall be Russian noblemen. Russia is still a land of mystery and legend. Anything I may care to tell, will be believed—not because I am Ca-ta-pha, the oldest man in the world, he who has seen empires rise and fall and religions in their cradles and in their coffins—but because I am a Russian.”

Kotikokura undid his belt which was closely lined with medals of all shapes.

“You were indeed the favorite of the Tsar, Samson Romanovich.”

Kotikokura grinned.

“From now on, you will play a less gorgeous but very much safer part. It is better, I assure you, to stand firmly upon the ground than to balance yourself on the tip of the highest branch of a tall tree.”

We laughed heartily and our laughter soldered together once more firmly the band that united us.

I was walking along the River Main in Frankfort, meditating on the words of Spinoza and the meaning of life when someone tapped me gently on the arm. I turned around. A little man with a sharp nose, sharp eyes, sharp pointed beard and a sharp protruding belly, bowed deeply.

“Ich bitte um Verzeihung,” he said in a sharp voice.

‘Porcupine,’ I thought. ‘One must not touch this man.’

“By whom have I the honor of being addressed?” I asked.

“I am Mayer-Anselm Rothschild, the banker.”

“I am Prince Daniel Petrovich.”

“I know.”

He reminded me of Abraham with whom I had done business in the matter of the jewels of Queen Isabella. But gone was the old humility. He was, unwittingly perhaps, the first of the new dynasty—the dynasty of money.

There was something so poignant, so dynamic in this little man, that I withdrew a little.

He smiled. “People are generally afraid of me. My friends call me the Living Sword. But Prince Daniel Petrovich certainly does not fear Mayer-Anselm Rothschild.”

“On the contrary, sir, he is pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I gave him my hand which he kissed. His chapped lip, or his beard, pricked me like a needle.

“Prince, I have a proposition which may interest you.”

“What is it?”

“We cannot speak freely here. Would His Highness care to take the trouble of visiting me at my office?”

I hesitated a moment.

“Really, Prince, it is worth while.”

His voice had become soft and oily, as if he had withdrawn his needles.

“Very well. I shall come.”

He rubbed his hands vigorously, standing on tiptoe. He hailed a carriage and we drove to a shop over which a red sign with the word banker swung lightly.

“I am not more than twenty-five, Prince, although I look much older,” Rothschild said, as soon as we were seated at a table. “But this is because I have thought and worked so hard. I know you are not against youth. Indeed, I understand that most of the men you engage are young.”

“It is true.”

“The older generation does not understand the new world which is growing in front of their noses.” He lowered his voice. “You are not prejudiced against Jews. Many of your best men are Jews.”

“I find the Jews cleverer, readier to accept new conditions, and contrary to current opinion, honest.”

Rothschild nodded and sighed. “How we Jews have been maligned, Your Highness! There are, of course, dishonest men among us as there are among all nations, but is it conceivable that a people persecuted and hated as the Jews could have long continued to do business with the Gentiles, if they had not been at least as honest as the latter?”

“The Jew was not originally as clever as he is now, Rothschild. The persecution that you bemoan sharpened his wits.”

“Perhaps. But it really is unbearable at times,” he answered sadly.

“No matter. The Jew will conquer and dominate!” I exclaimed.

“Is that a jest, Prince?”

“It is the truth and a fine piece of irony besides. The Jew will control the money of the world. He who controls a man’s money, controls his life. While the Jew will be persecuted and hounded, he will rule the destiny of mankind.”

He remained silent, looking at me furtively. He was endeavoring to understand why I was interested in the Jews and whether I was sincere. Unable to reach a conclusion, he sighed.

“Do not fear, Rothschild. I conceal no trap.”

“I do not fear, Your Highness. A Jew must have courage to live.”

We spent several days discussing plans and measures for gigantic investments. This young man’s mind was as sharp as his physique.

I entrusted him with a large sum of money. “Rothschild, I have confidence in you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“You will succeed. Your descendants, if they are as intelligent as you– —”

“I am married to a woman of character and intelligence, Prince.”

“Good! Your descendants will be wealthier than kings.”

He bowed.

“Rothschild, we may or may not meet again. You will feel my influence. I shall work in silence, invisible. Let it seem always that you are the sole master. Never let my name cross your lips.”

“Never, Prince.”

“Extend our business to the end of the earth, Rothschild. Consider the world an angry steed which we must ride. Underneath our yoke, he may foam and fret but will obey nevertheless.”

Rothschild grinned, his teeth set.

“They say that King Frederick of Prussia is amenable to humor and wisdom.”

“So they say.”

“I must visit him then.”

Rothschild sighed.

I smiled. “You cannot overcome your Jewish instinct. You would like to mingle with the great of the earth while your wife struts about, smothered in jewels.”

Rothschild closed his eyes. “Prince, I cannot deceive you. It was this I sighed for.”

“Well, my friend, it will happen—to you, or to your descendants. But whether this will help the Jews or not, I cannot tell.”

“The Jew is bound to be misunderstood, Your Highness. If he is humble, he is kicked about. If he is vain, he is despised. If he is poor, he is beaten; if he is rich, he is menaced. It is better to be rich and vain. Menace and hate do not hurt as much as the tip of a boot and a whip.”