cloak and tall shiny hat, was seen slowly
and gravely crossing the market-place. The groups standing about made
way for him, bowing respectfully.

Somebody said loudly

"Poor Reb Saul, to have such a grandson!" The old man did not reply,
but pressed his lips closer together.

More than an hour had elapsed ere Saul returned from his errand. He
found all the elder members of the family in the same position as he
had left them. Meir sat close to the easy-chair of the great-grandmother,
who tightly clutched him by the coat sleeve.

Sarah met her father and relieved him of his hat and cloak.

"What news do you bring, father?" asked Raphael.

Saul breathed heavily, and looked gloomily on the floor.

"What could I bring from there," he said after a momentary silence,
"but shame and humiliation? The hearts of Todros rejoices over the
misfortune of the house of Ezofowich. Smiles, like reptiles, are
writhing and crawling over his yellow face."

"And what did he say?" asked several voices. "He said he had been far
too forbearing towards my godless, insolent grandson--that Reb Moshe,
Kamionker, and all the people were urging him to sit in judgment upon
Meir; at my intercession he would put off the trial until to-morrow
after sunset, and said if Meir humbled himself and asked his and his
people's pardon, the sentence would be less severe."

All eyes turned towards Meir.

"What do you say to it?" asked a chorus of voices.

Meir looked thoughtfully down.

"Give me time--till to-morrow," he pleaded. "I may perhaps find a way
out of it."

"How can you find a way?" they exclaimed. "Allow me not to answer you
till to-morrow," repeated Meir.

They nodded and became silent. It was mute consent.

In all their hearts fear and anger were struggling with family pride.
They felt angry with Meir, yet trembled for his fate, and the very
thought that a member of their family should humble himself publicly
before the Rabbi and the people seemed unbearable.

"Who knows," whispered Raphael, "he may find a way to avoid it?"

"Perhaps his mother will appear to him in his sleep and tell him what
to do," sighed Sarah.

The belated dinner, passed off in gloomy silence, interrupted only by
the sighs of women and a smothered sob from the children, who had
been forbidden to laugh and chatter.

The grieved and mournful faces looked now and then at Freida, who
showed an unusual restlessness. She did not speak, neither did she
doze durin