heathen ask, as our Lord says; but the four sailors were but little more than heathens, and Valentine had but a dead faith. The thought of their treachery to the captain rose in the minds of the sailors, and robbed them of the courage to pray to Him who they knew could alone help them in their hour of need. For men measure the heart of God by their own, and paint him to themselves as resentful, unpitying, ready to return evil for evil, until they learn from Holy Scripture how far his thoughts and ways are above ours. They were like children who, when they have done something wrong, no longer have boldness to ask anything they need from their father or mother, but are glad to get a brother or sister to go and ask for the bread or the apple which they want, fearing that if they went themselves they might meet with a reproachful word or a denial of their request. So, when they were pressed by hunger and thirst, and saw no land, they were afraid to pray, but insisted that Valentine should call on God for help, thinking that as he had not been a willing partaker in their treachery, his conscience was not so much burdened as theirs. Valentine felt that this was not the time for merely repeating a prayer that he had learned by rote, and tried to pray from his heart. Now that he was brought low by hunger and distress, he began to see things differently from what he usually did; and when he would have prayed, the remembrance of all his foolish eager longings and strivings after wealth rose up, and he felt they had been sinful, though his ideas were yet far from clear. But the storm of conscience within was so loud that he could not put his thoughts together in a regular prayer, but only cried in the depth of his woe, "Have pity on us, O Lord." And that God, who is full of compassion, put all the mistrust of his guilty creatures to shame, helping them in their need, though all their past and all their future sins were well known to him.

On the third day at evening they descried land, and rousing all their remaining strength, at last gained the shore, and were able to bring their boat into a little cove. They were so weak they could scarcely crawl ashore, and with difficulty dragged their weary limbs to a planter's house, which they saw near at hand in the bush.

The Portuguese farmer happily knew a little Dutch; and as they gave him to understand that they were shipwrecked sailors that had rowed constantly for three days without eating, he at once brought them food and water, but was cautious enough not to give them much at once, for fear of making them ill. The sun was in the zenith on the next day before they awoke. Then more food was given them before, refreshed by the kindness they had met with, they returned to their little boat and rowed to the neighbouring port of Bahia. There they found many vessels at anchor, and selling their boat, they divided the money before seeking a passage on board any of them. Valentine had no sooner found himself in more comfortable circumstances, than all his longings after gold arose in his heart as strong as

ever, in spite of all his doubts and convictions while in danger. A ship captain seeing him wandering about idle, spoke to him, and asked if he would not hire as a sailor with him.

"Where are you bound?" inquired Valentine. "To the Gold Coast," said the captain.

What could Valentine desire more? The goal which he had so long aimed seemed now close before him. What was it to him that the captain was engaged in the iniquitous slave-trade? If he could only get to the land of his dreams, any means would be good that brought him there. He gladly agreed to the captain's terms, binding himself for a stipulated time; and then spent all the money he had in arms, cloth, trinkets, and such other wares as he heard were valued by the negroes; and then went on board the slave-ship more than ever filled with his fanciful dreams. In a small haven a little to the south of the Danish settlement on the Gold Coast of Africa the ship cast anchor, and waited till the captain's agent on shore could collect the number of slaves which the ship could carry. It was a low, swampy coast, swarming by day with mosquitoes and other troublesome insects, and covered by night with heavy poisonous fogs, very dangerous to health. Eight days had hardly passed before Valentine was attacked by the country fever. He was taken on shore to the hut of the negro agent of the captain; and as the fever did not give way before the usual remedies, he was left behind when the ship, having completed her wretched cargo of slaves, set sail again for Brazil. The captain looked on him as a lost man, for he had never known an instance of recovery from so severe an attack of fever. Valentine lay long in danger; the sickness ended in an intermittent fever, which brought his strength down to the lowest ebb. When he saw himself thus on the confines of eternity, the same disquieting thoughts disturbed him as when he was in danger in the little boat. Texts of Scripture which he had learned when a boy returned to his mind-such as, "What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" Fears of the righteous judgment of God, from which he could not escape, made his heart shrink within him. He knew that God is willing to forgive the sins of those who turn to him in true repentance; but he had no desire for this. He would much rather hope to be well again and at work, so as to forget his disquieting thoughts. So this chastisement of God too failed to turn him back; and as is ever the case after stifled convictions, his heart became harder than ever, and less susceptible of impressions from the truth of God. At last help came for his sickness. A Danish trader from Ussu, who was on a business tour in the neighbourhood, came to the negro's hut to ask directions for his road, which he had lost. He saw Valentine lying sick, inquired about him, and gave him some fever medicine which he always carried about with him.

The remedies had immediate effect; and as Valentine

begged to be taken into his service, the merchant remained two days, till he was strong enough to accompany him back to Ussu.

CHAPTER V.

THOUGH Valentine was now nearer his goal than he had ever been before, yet it seemed put far from him; for what hope could a mere servant of a small trader have to become a rich man, and gather a tub of gold! But he did not lose courage, and if by day the wings of hope seemed plucked from his shoulders, they always grew again by night. His master did not seem a likely person to help him, for he was a regular niggard, eaten up by the same desire for gold as Valentine, and occupied with nothing else but the effort to gather gold-dust as fast a possible, intending, when he was well provided with it, to go home, and enjoy his riches at his ease. It certainly would have been much more merchant-like had he sent what he obtained to a bank in Europe, where it would have increased yearly by its own interest; but his blind greed made him deem his gold more secure under his own eye than in the hands of a banker, who might possibly fail. Besides that, he could not bring himself to part with the gold which he so delighted in looking at. His housekeeping was of the meanest kind. He had only one servant, and a cook. No costly food or drink ever appeared on his table, and he never I thought of the possibility of having fine clothing, furni

ture, or equipages. . He concealed his gold in a chest with a triple lock, which he opened every day, and feasted his eyes on his treasure. This box was shut up in a room to which no one, not even his most intimate friends, was ever admitted.

Thus poor Valentine had a notable instance of sordid greed and overweening love of gold daily before his eyes, and one would have thought that the sight of such a miserable example of pitiful avarice might have turned him from his evil desires after wealth. But, alas ! far from doing so, it only worked quite the other way with him. He managed to suit himself so perfectly to the peculiarities of his master, and so completely imitated his scrimping, niggardly ways, that he grew into great favour with him. He soon saw through his master's character, and offered to serve him for nothing if he would allow him to go with him on his trading tours, and trade in a small way for himself. Herr Nilsen was quite pleased with the offer, and agreed to it at

once.

On his next journey to the Akim negro country Valentine accompanied him, taking the goods he had brought from Brazil to trade with, promising at the same time to give his master a share of his profits, as on his account another porter was required. The wares sold well, and Valentine rejoiced greatly when he for the first time found himself the possessor of a tiny vialful of gold-dust. Through the magnifying-glass of his

mind it already appeared something like the tub of gold of his day-dreams. There certainly is a considerable difference between a little two-ounce glass and a twohundredweight barrel, and long patience would be needed to make the one grow into the other; but as often as he saw the small pewter spoon with which the negroes took the gold-dust out of their leather pockets filled again for him, the barometer of his hopes rose one degree higher at least; and as often as he saw the quantity of his gold-dust increased by ever so little, he thought of the time when he would no longer be able to lift it all with one hand as he now could. Oh that in the matters of the kingdom of God we could have the same perseverance, and the same constant, steadfast hope that worldly men have in reference to the fleeting riches of this world. Valentine's early desire to gather riches for the poor had by degrees faded away. In Java he had come to an agreement with himself that when he was rich he might keep half of his gold for himself, while the other half would suffice to give away; but now, when he at last possessed a small quantity of gold, and could gloat over the sight of it, he found the idea of parting with half of it quite unendurable. He thought that while he had so little there was no need to give any away, and that it would be time enough to think of dispensing to others when he had a whole tubful. What would you augur from that, my readers?

Any one that is at all acquainted with the human heart will know that such a purpose was sure to come to nothing. The more his stock of gold increased, the less he was inclined to part with any of it, till at last he could not think of doing anything with his lovely gold but just keeping it to himself. You may imagine what eyes Valentine made when he went once with Herr Nilsen to Kumasse, the capital of Ashanti-land, and saw the servants of the King of Ashanti so hung over with heavy golden ornaments that they could scarcely walk under their weight. The thought occurred to him that he might try to get to be one of these servants, and then go off with his burden of gold. The king himself had such a quantity of golden articles and gold-dust, that poor Valentine did not know how to contain himself when he saw such riches. He was very successful with his trading at Ashanti, getting a four-ounce vial of gold-dust for his wares; but what was that compared with the wealth of this coal-black, ignorant negro of a king? But he comforted himself with the thought that his riches certainly were increasing. He already had a little tub made of hard wood, with a double bottom, and carefully lined with paper, in which to lay up his golddust, and determined he would never return to hisfatherland till he had it quite full. It certainly was a good deal smaller than that of his youthful dreams, which had always resembled a great palm-oil vat which he had seen in a neighbour's shop; but his ideas had become much moderated since he found that in Guinea they measured the gold, not by soup ladles, but small

CHAPTER VI.

SINCE the fever which Valentine had on first coming to Africa, he had enjoyed excellent health, and borne the hardships of their journeys nearly as well as Herr Nilsen, who had a hide like a hippopotamus, and a stomach like a Tierra del Fuegan; but at last, after an unusually fatiguing journey he came home worn out, and lay sick for a considerable time. Herr Nilsen, who doubted of his recovery, now broached his project. to him.

"You know, Valentine," he said, "that I almost saved your life, and as you have served me faithfully, I have treated you more like a son than a servant. You have had my full confidence, and I can testify that you have never misused it. You know, too, that I have no relations in the Fatherland that could claim my inheritance. I am getting old, and your sickness reminds me that I too might easily be visited by illness, which at my advanced age I could not stand against. You have youth on your side, and will soon be about again; so to give you a proof of my satisfaction, I will make you my heir, for I know you are no spendthrift, and will honour my memory by thinking of how hardly my gold has been gained, and not wasting it. To show your gratitude, I am sure you will make no difficulty about, in return, making me your heir, in case of the very improbable event of your dying first."

Valentine saw through the cunning intention of the greedy old man, but the thought of the bare possibility of having his highest wishes fulfilled by this agreement with his master so roused him, that his eyes sparkled with joy, and in spite of his weakness he accepted the offer with the liveliest thanks. He had not allowed himself to think of his own death as possible; in spite of the doctor he felt convinced he would recover. But as he too could be a hypocrite, he said nothing of this to bis master, but assured him he could never for a moment entertain the thought of having to bury him, and possessing his wealth, but, on the other hand, would gladly leave his own small possession to the master in whose

colony was sent for from Christiansburg, and made out a contract by which Herr Nilsen and Valentine bound themselves each to make the other the heir of all he possessed. Two copies of the contract were made, signed by each, sealed, and to each of them a copy was given.

At the beginning of his illness, Valentine had frequent inner admonitions that all would not be well with him were he to die; for during many years he had scarcely given a thought to God and spiritual things, and had even given up the daily formal prayer which he had learned in his home, and used for some years after he left it. His conscience told him he had much cause to humble himself before God, and pray for pardon of the sins of the past years of carelessness and forgetfulness of God, and devotion to nothing but money-getting. But as a boy who has run away from his father's house, the further he strays away finds it the more difficult to return, so was it with poor Valentine; the further be wandered from God the more powerless he found himself, and the more unwilling to return to him; so that the richer he became for this world, the poorer his soul was in the sight of God. All earnest thought as regards his soul was banished after the idea of being Herr Nilsen's heir was broached; he could think of nothing but getting well as soon as possible. And the very happiness the prospect of obtaining his master's wealth gave him seemed to help him to throw off the fever, and after a few days he was able to get about again.

This end of the matter was not at all what Herr Nilsen expected, but he concealed his disappointment, and soon became quite indifferent as to the idea of Valentine being his heir; for he had a strong constitution, and trusted to having a long life yet; and he thought that when he had to die Valentine might as well succeed to his wealth as any one else, for he really had no near relative to care about.

By this time the news had reached Amsterdam that Valentine Ondermeer was succeeding well as a trader on the Gold Coast, and half a year later the further intelligence was carried that a very wealthy man had made him his heir. The notary had not been able to keep silence as to the document he had drawn up. When le was sitting with his friends over a bottle of Madeira the news soon spread abroad, in spite of many promises of secrecy. Happily, Herr Nilsen had very little communication with white people in the colony, or he might have heard what a good joke it was thought that the sick man, whose heir he had hoped soon to be, had re covered, and was looking forward to inheriting H Nilsen's much larger possessions.

When the news of all this reached Amsterdam, the next ship brought Valentine the following letter from his brother Gerhard ::

"DEAR BROTHER,-After a long period in which we had heard nothing of you, and concluded that you must be dead, we have at last had the joy to learn that you

are alive, and, moreover, are in good circumstances, and have the hope of one day being a rich man. This is the more pleasant news to us as we are just now in the greatest difficulties. You know I went to Herr Opreght's counting-house to learn to be a merchant. As long as I was in his house he showed himself a true friend of our late father, and treated me like a son. After I had been six years with him he got me a good situation in a merchant's office in Antwerp, where I remained for three years. After that I returned to Amsterdam. Herr Opreght gave me his second daughter for my wife, and took me as partner. I was very happy, but my happiness did not last many years. The fall of a great merchant house with which we had dealings brought us into great difficulties, and my father-in-law's conscientiousness not allowing him to compound with his creditors, by the time we had fulfilled all our obligations there was no more left than would set us up in a very small house indeed. I have got a situation as billbroker, which keeps us from absolute starvation, but it goes to my heart to see my early benefactor, who has always been accustomed to every comfort, reduced to such extreme poverty in his old age. To make matters worse, my mother's health will no longer permit her to exert herself for her maintenance, and I have had to take her home. In these circumstances you might do us all most worthy service. I hear you have saved money, and if you still love your mother and brother, and would show that love by entrusting part of your savings to me, I would make the best possible use of it. It would enable me to enter on business again, for which I now have a most excellent opportunity, for which only a small capital is needed; and in a little time you could receive your own again with interest, for we hope you will soon return to your own land.

"If you have a heart like that of our dear father, which I cannot doubt, you will gladly do us this service, and be the means, with God's blessing, of bringing us to prosperity again; and our hearty gratitude will not be awanting."

This letter awoke feelings in Valentine's heart which had long been silent there. He had scarcely thought of his mother or brother for years; the gold-seeking passion in him had been like the hungry, lean cattle of Pharaoh's dream, and swallowed up all better feelings.

in setting him up in business. The question was soon decided. The idea at once occurred to Valentine that his brother might easily be unsuccessful in his projects, and then the precious gold, to obtain which he had toiled and moiled, would all be lost. It was not to be thought of. Had he really been Herr Nilsen's heir, he thought, he might easily have helped his family; but as it was, what should he do? Could he send half his gold? Ah, but it might even be lost on the way, and what a time it would take to gather so much again. Perhaps it would be as well just to send a little present to show his good-will. But of what use would that be, and every grain of his gold taken from the rest would be like a drop of blood from his heart. So he talked with himself, and the result was that the casket was closed without one grain being removed. Then, in order to justify himself, he went and showed the letter to Herr Nilsen and asked his opinion, well knowing what it would be, at the same time hypocritically pretending to be very anxious to help his brother. Herr Nilsen was alarmed at the bare possibility of part of what he was heir to being abstracted in this way. He made the strongest representations of the danger of risking anything in the hands of a brother who had once failed, and ended by saying he would not keep Valentine a day longer in his house if he became so careless and improvident of his means. So it ended in the following letter being written to Gerhard :

:

"MY DEAR BROTHER,-How grieved I am to hear of your distress, and how gladly I would help you were it possible. It is true I have laid up a small amount of money, but in the contract between my master and myself, by which we each make the other his heir, there is an express clause that I shall not part with anything that belongs to me without his knowledge and approval. Now he will not hear of my putting any of my gold in your hands. I could of course do what I like with my own, if I chose to give up the hope of my master's inheritance; but you will understand well that such a thing is not to be thought of, for he is very rich, as every one tells me, though no one has ever seen his treasures. But as he is already an old man, and no one lives very long in this country, I may very soon be in possession of his wealth, and then you will see how willing I am to help you. I would gladly have sent you a little vial of gold-dust, as a greeting, but it would be of no use to you; so instead of that I send you a ring made by the negroes of the finest gold, and a pin for my mother. Perhaps I may soon be among you as a rich man, and then you will no longer need to complain of poverty."

INING at Aix sat Karl the king,
With lords a few of high degree.
Fish, flesh, and fowl, each dainty thing
Was there; and oh, a sight to see

Were the cups so fine

With the sparkling wine,

And the plates of gold and silver.

Spake Karl the king: "These gauds are vain;
What boots the cup or plate of gold,
While the gem of gems we cannot gain?
It decks the shield of the Giant bold,
Who still doth roam and make his home
In Ardennes' gloomy forest.”

For horse and arms then cried each knight,
Bavarian Kaims, and Count Garin;
Milon of Anglant, famed in fight;
And eke the archbishop bold, Turpin;
Earl Richard true; brave Heimon too;-
All vowed to slay the Giant.

Young Roland, son of Milon, spake: "Dear father, I am young indeed;

To strive with giants all too weak;
Yet I might bear thy spear at need,
And the great shield I may not wield
I at thy side will carry."

Six mounted lords together start,
Together reach the forest wide;
Each from the other here they part;
But Roland keeps by Milon's side.
Oh, proud to bear the shield and spear,
And ride beside his father!

They sought the Giant late and soon,
In rocky cave, in hollow mound;
They sought by light of sun and moon,
But ne'er a trace of him they found.
The fourth mid-day Sir Milon lay
Beneath an oak-tree sleeping.

Young Roland looks. A sudden flash
Of lightning darteth through the trees!
Affrighted stag and roe-buck dash
Away-and now he closer sees;
"Tis the jewel's light in the shield so bright,
Of the Giant grim approaching.

Then up young Roland's heart did leap,
And he unto himself did say:
"My father sleeps refreshing sleep,

Shall Roland wake him for dismay?
Awake are here horse, shield, and spear,
Awake this sword and Roland."

Ile girt the sword with leathern band,
The spear against his shoulder pressed,
The weighty shield was in his hand,
And noble courage in his breast.
He softly crept, on horseback leapt,
And did not wake his father.

Among the dark fir-trees he rode
Until he reached a rocky wall;
When up the Giant, laughing, strode:
"Who is this Babe on steed so tall?

His sword, poor wight, is twice his height,
And his great shield will crush him."

Young Roland cried: "Come on, thou knave,
Thou soon shalt know my sabre's length;
Shalt find this horse and buckler brave
Are to the 'Babe' a tower of strength.
But truce to words. We'll measure swords-
The 'Babe' against the Giant.”

Backward the Giant stepped, and flung
A pole which, whizzing, cleft the air;
But, ere it reached him, Roland swung
Lightly aside; it passed him clear.
Then his lance he threw, but back it flew
From the Giant's shield of magic.

With both his hands now Roland snatched
His father's sword in desperate haste;
The Giant's speed was overmatched;
His right hand fumbled at his waist,
While his great left fist, hewn from the wrist,
With its shield in dust lay rolling.

The monster's heart it sunk full low;
He ran, the magic shield to seize,
When Roland aimed a timely blow,
Which smote him sore below the knees.
Despoiled and lame, the Giant came
To earth in helpless fury.

All danger o'er, no fear of hurt,
Young Roland seized him by the hair,
Cut off the head; and high did spurt
A bloody fountain in the air.
From the shield so bright its gem of light
Young Roland tore with rapture.

Secure within his vest it lay,
While Roland at a silver stream
Washed stains of blood and dust away,
And made his weapons brightly gleam.
Then swift rode he unto the tree
Where his father still was sleeping.