“‘But how?’ Valentine asked.
“‘Not this way,’ said the River, ‘but over your head. When in the early morning, or in the warmer noon, or in the pleasant evenings, you see the white clouds flying westward, you may be sure that I am returning.’ Then the River broke into a thousand ripples, as if smiling.
“But Valentine sat with a very serious face. ‘I do not know how you can aid me,’ he sighed.
“‘I know what you wish,’ the River replied. ‘You wish riches.’
“‘Yes,’ said Valentine, ‘but not for the sake of the riches themselves.’
“‘Of course not!’ the River exclaimed. ‘Riches would be worthless if they could not command something better; and they are worse than worthless when the power they give is used for evil. I can give you riches, but not without your help. I can give you the power to obtain wealth, but I cannot give you the power to use it as it should be used.’
“Valentine listened to the mysterious Voice of the River like one in a dream. He could hardly believe his ears.
“‘You say nothing,’ said the River; ‘you seem half asleep. But if I am to help you, you must help yourself. Walk by my side a little way. Further down you will come to a boat that has drifted against the bank.’
