e lustre of the jewels dazzled him, as if he had looked upon the
noon-day sun. In vases of agate were heaped diamonds beyond enumeration,
the smallest of which was larger than a pigeon's egg. On alabaster
tables lay amethysts, topazes, rubies, beryls, and all other precious
stones, wrought by the hands of skilful artists, beyond power of
computation. The room was lighted by a carbuncle, which, from the end
of the hall, poured its ever-living light, brighter than the rays of
noontide, but cooler than the gentle radiance of the dewy moon. This
was a sore trial on the Rabbi; but he was strengthened from above, and
he refused again.

"Thou knowest me then, I perceive, O Jochonan, son of Ben-David," said
the Prince of the Mazikin; "I am a Demon who would tempt thee to
destruction. As thou hast withstood so far, I tempt thee no more. Thou
hast done a service which, though I value it not, is acceptable in the
sight of her whose love is dearer to me than the light of life. Sad has
been that love to thee, my Rebecca! Why should I do that which would make
thy cureless grief more grievous? You have yet another chamber to see,"
said he to Jochonan, who had closed his eyes, and was praying fervently
to the Lord, beating his breast.

Far different from the other chambers, the one into which the Rabbi was
next introduced, was a mean and paltry apartment, without furniture.
On its filthy walls hung innumerable bunches of rusty keys, of all sizes,
disposed without order. Among them, to the astonishment of Jochonan,
hung the keys of his own house, those which he had put to hide when
he came on this miserable journey, and he gazed upon them intently.

"What dost thou see," said the Demon, "that makes thee look so eagerly?
Can he who has refused silver, and gold, and diamonds, be moved by a
paltry bunch of rusty iron?"

"They are mine own, my lord," said the Rabbi, "them will I take, if they
be offered me."

"Take them, then," said the Demon, putting them into his hand;--"thou
may'st depart. But, Rabbi, open not thy house only, when thou returnest
to Cairo, but thy heart also. That thou didst not open it before, was
that which gave me power over thee. It was well that thou didst one
act of charity in coming with me without reward, for it has been thy
salvation. Be no more Rabbi Jochonan the miser."

The Rabbi bowed to the ground, and blessed the Lord for his escape. "But
how," said he, "am I to return, for I know not the way?"

"Cl