and his lips moved. At last he sat
down again, speechless. Straightway, to the amazement of all, Fink rose,
and said, with deep earnestness, "Join me in drinking to the prosperity
of a German house where work is a pleasure, and honor has its home.
Hurrah for our counting-house and our principal!"

Thundering hurrahs followed, in which Sabine could not help joining. The
rest of the evening was unbroken hilarity, and it was long past ten when
they reached the town.

As they went up stairs, Fink said to Anton, "To-day, my boy, you are not
to pass me by. I have found it a great bore to be so long without you;"
and the reconciled friends sat together far into the night.

Sabine went to her own room, where her maid gave her a note in an
unknown handwriting. The smell of musk and the delicate characters
showed that it came from a lady.

"Who brought it?" inquired she.

"A stranger," replied the maid; "he said that there was no answer, and
would not give his name."

Sabine read, "Do not triumph too soon, fair lady. You have by your
coquetry allured a gentleman who is accustomed to mislead, to forget,
and shamefully to use those who trust him. A short time ago he said to
another all he now says to you. He will but betray and forsake you
also."

The note was not signed: it came from Rosalie.

Sabine knew well who had written it. She held it to the taper, and then
flinging it on the hearth, silently watched spark by spark die out. Long
did she stand there, her head against the mantel-piece, her eyes fixed
upon the little heap of ashes.

Tearless, voiceless, she held her hand pressed firmly on her heart.

CHAPTER XVI.

Veitel Itzig was in the highest excitement. After many consultations
with his adviser Hippus, many nightly calculations as to the state of
his purse, he had ventured upon a bold stroke of business, and had
succeeded in it. He had wormed himself into a not very creditable
secret, and had sold it for eight thousand dollars. The happy day had at
length arrived when he was to carry home this large capital. After his
long endeavor to appear calm, while his heart was beating with anxious
suspense like a smith's hammer, he was now happy as a child; he jumped
round the room, laughed with pleasure, and asked Hippus what sort of
wine he would like to drink to-day. "Wine alone will not do," replied
Hippus, ominously. "However, it is long since I have tasted any
Hungarian. Get a bottle of old Upper Hungaria