an seemed to totter on his feet. A cruel struggle was taking
place within him. Several times he tried to speak, but could not. At
last in a heavy whisper, he said:

"He is not cursed yet--I am still allowed:"

"In the name of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob I bless you, son
of my son!"

And trembling in every limb, his eyes full of tears, he sank back in
his chair.

Those present exchanged glances of amazement and reverence. Meir
bounded forward and threw himself at the feet of the old man. In a
low, feverish voice he spoke of the love he bore him--about the
Senior's legacy to his descendants, and that he would go into the
world and come back sometime. Then he rose from his knees and quickly
left the room.

At this moment there was nobody near the windows of the house. The
great crowd of people had retreated towards the middle of the square,
and there they stood almost motionless, quietly whispering with each
other. A singular thing happened. Scarcely had the messenger finished
reading the sentence when the storm of wrath and anger suddenly
subsided. What had happened to them? Their emotional nature which,
like a stringed instrument, answered to the slightest touch, quivered
under a new feeling. It was respect and sympathy for the misfortune
of an ancient and charitable family. The crowd, which such a short
time before had yelled and cursed and was ready to tear everything to
pieces, became suddenly quiet and subdued, and began to disperse
peacefully. Here and there still sounded malicious laughter or
insulting epithets, but more voices were heard in gentle pity.

"Yet he was good and charitable!"

"He never was proud!"

"He fed my foolish child and kissed it!"

"He saved my old father when the cart had fallen upon him!"

"He worked with us like a common man, and sawed wood!"

"His face shone with beauty and intelligence!"

"All eyes rejoiced looking at his young age!"

"Herem!! Herem! Herem!" (Excommunicated) repeated many.

Then they shook their heads in wonder, faces paled with horror, and
breasts heaved with sighs.

***

Three shadows glided swiftly over the moonlit deserted fields which
separated the town from the Karaite's Hill. The first belonged to a
tall, slender man; the second to a child who clung to the sleeve of
his garment; these two shadows were so close together that often they
formed but one; the third shadow showed the outline of a burly
figure, which kept carefully in th