finished speaking, Trendellsohn held the door
of the room open in his hand, and Ziska, not being ready with any
answer, passed through it and descended the stairs. The Jew followed
him and also held open the house door, but did not speak again as Ziska
went out. Nor did Ziska say a word, the proper words not being ready to
his tongue. The Jew returned at once into the synagogue, having during
the interview with Ziska worn the short white surplice in which he had
been found; and Ziska returned at once to his own house in the
Windberg-gasse.

CHAPTER VIII

Early on the following morning--the morning of the Christian Sunday--
Nina Balatka received a note, a very short note, from her lover the
Jew. "Dearest, meet me on the bridge this evening at eight. I will be
at your end on the right-hand pathway exactly at eight. Thine, ever and
always, A. T." Nina, directly she had read the words, rushed out to the
door in order that she might give assurance to the messenger that she
would do as she was bidden; but the messenger was gone, and Nina was
obliged to reconcile herself to the prospect of silent obedience. The
note, however, had made her very happy, and the prospect pleased her
well. It was on this very day that she had intended to go to her lover;
but it was in all respects much pleasanter to her that her lover should
come to her. And then, to walk with him was of all things the most
delightful, especially in the gloom of the evening, when no eyes could
see her--no eyes but his own. She could hang upon his arm, and in this
way she could talk more freely with him than in any other. And then the
note had in it more of the sweetness of a love-letter than any written
words which she had hitherto received from him. It was very short, no
doubt, but he had called her "Dearest," instead of "Dear Nina," as had
been his custom, and then he had declared that he was hers ever and
always. No words could have been sweeter. She was glad that the note
was so short, because there was nothing in it to mar her pleasure. Yes,
she would be there at eight. She was quite determined that she would
not keep him waiting.

At half-past seven she was on the bridge. There could be no reason, she
thought, why she should not walk across it to the other side and then
retrace her steps, though in doing so she was forced, by the rule of
the road upon the bridge, to pass to the Old Town by the right-hand
pathway in going, while he must come to her