other. For days nobody took the
slightest notice of his continual questionings until a priest, with a
harsh, cruel face, spoke to him severely one day.

"I perceive, Andreas," he said, "thou hast a stubborn spirit. It shall
be curbed. Thy father and mother are dead--all the world is dead to
thee. Thou hast strange notions in thy head. We shall rid thee of
them."

Elkanan cried so much on hearing these terrible words that he made
himself seriously ill. How long he was kept in bed he knew not, but
when he recovered, he found himself a prisoner in a monastery. All the
priests called him Andreas, they were kind to him, and in time he
began to doubt himself whether he was Elkanan, the son of Simon, the
pious Jew of Mayence.

To put an end to the unrest in his mind, he devoted himself earnestly
to his lessons. His tutors never had so brilliant a pupil, nor so
intelligent a companion. He was a remarkable chess player.

"Where did you learn?" they asked him.

"My father, Simon ben Isaac, of Mayence, taught me," he replied, with
a sob in his voice.

"It is well," they replied, having received their instructions what to
say in answer to such remarks, "thou art blessed from Heaven, Andreas.
Not only dost thou absorb learning in the hours of daylight, but
angels and dead sages visit thee in they sleep and impart knowledge
unto thee."

He could obtain no more satisfactory words from his tutors, and in
time he made no mention whatever of the past, and his tutors and
companions refrained from touching upon the subject either. Once or
twice he formed the idea of endeavoring to escape, but he soon
discovered the project impossible. He was never allowed to be alone
for a moment; he was virtually a prisoner, although all men began to
do him honor because of his amazing knowledge and learning.

In due time, he became a priest and a tutor and was even called to
Rome and was created a cardinal. He wore a red cap and cloak, people
kneeled to him and sought his blessing, and all spoke of him as the
wisest, kindliest and most scholarly man in the Church.

He had not spoken of his boyhood for years, but he never ceased to
think of those happy days. And although he tried hard, he could not
believe that it was all a dream. Whenever he played a game of chess,
which was his one pastime, he seemed to see himself in his old room at
Mayence, and he sighed. His fellow priests wondered why he did this,
and he laughingly told them it was becau