for Dr. Costa."

"Until now?"

"Rahel had baked some dumplings, so the doctor told me to stay."

"Then go to bed now. But first take some food to the groom in the
stable, and put fresh linen on my bed. Be in the workshop early
to-morrow morning, there is a horse to be shod."

The boy looked up thoughtfully and replied: "Yes, but the doctor has
changed the hours; to-morrow the lesson will begin just after sunrise,
father."

"Very well, we'll do without you. Good-night then."

The monk followed this conversation with interest and increasing
disapproval, his face assuming a totally different expression, for the
muscles between his nose and mouth drew farther back, forming with the
underlip an angle turning inward. Thus he gazed with mute reproach at
the smith for some time, then pushed the goblet far away, exclaiming
with sincere indignation:

"What doings are these, friend Adam? I'll let the Jew's wine pass, and
the dumplings too for aught I care, though it doesn't make a Christian
child more pleasing in the sight of God, to eat from the same dish
with those on whom the Saviour's innocent blood rests. But that you,
a believing Christian, should permit an accursed Jew to lead a foolish
lad. ..."

"Let that pass," said the smith, interrupting the excited monk; but the
latter would not be restrained, and only continued still more loudly and
firmly: "I won't be stopped. Was such a thing ever heard of? A
baptized Christian, who sends his own son to be taught by the infidel
soul-destroyer!"

"Hear me, Father!"

"No indeed. It's for you to hear--you! What was I saying? For you, you
who seek for your poor child a soul-destroying infidel as teacher. Do
you know what that is? A sin against the Holy Ghost--the worst of all
crimes. Such an abomination! You will have a heavy penance imposed upon
you in the confessional."

"It's no sin--no abomination!" replied the smith defiantly.

The angry blood mounted into the monk's cheeks, and he cried:
threateningly: "Oho! The chapter will teach you better to your sorrow.
Keep the boy away from the Jew, or..."

"Or?" repeated the smith, looking Father Benedict steadily in the face.

The latter's lips curled still more deeply, as after a pause, he
replied: "Or excommunication and a fitting punishment will fall upon you
and the vagabond doctor. Tit for tat. We have grown tender-hearted, and
it is long since a Jew has been burned for an example to many."

These words did not fa