how didst thou speak?"

"I have told you. I said, `God do so to me and more also, if I bring
not the child to you unhurt!'"

"Didst thou say `God'? or did the man say it, and thy word was only
`He'?" asked the Rabbi eagerly, fancying that he saw a way of escape.

"What do I know which it was? I meant Him, and that is in His eyes as
if I had said it."

"Countess, if thou be contumacious, I cannot shelter thee," said Leo
sternly.

"My daughter," answered the Rabbi, still suavely, though he was not far
from anger, "I am endeavouring to find thee a way of escape."

"I do not wish to escape. I sware, and I will do it. Oh, bid me
depart!" she cried, almost fiercely, turning to Leo. "I cannot bear
this endless badgering. Give me my raiment and my jewels, and bid me
depart in peace!"

There was a moment's dead silence, during which the two old men looked
fixedly at each other. Then the Rabbi said--

"It were best for thee, Leo. Isaac the son of Deuslesalt [probably a
translation of Isaiah or Joshua] hath a fair daughter, and he is richer
than either Benefei or Jurnet. She is his only child."

"I have seen her: she is very handsome. Yet such a winter night! We
will wait till morning, and not act rashly."

"No: now or not at all," said Countess firmly.

"My daughter," interposed the Rabbi hastily, "there is no need to be
rash. If Leo give thee now a writing of divorcement, thou canst not
abide in his house to-night. Wait till the light dawns. Sleep may
bring a better mind to thee."

Countess vouchsafed him no answer. She turned to her husband.

"I never wished to dwell in thy house," she said very calmly, "but I
have been a true and obedient wife. I ask thee now for what I think I
have earned--my liberty. Let me go with my little child, whom I love
dearly,--go to freedom, and be at peace. I can find another shelter for
to-night. And if I could not, it would not matter--for me."

She stooped and gathered the sleeping child into her arms.

"Speak the words," she said. "It is the one boon that I ask of you."

Leo rose--with a little apparent reluctance--and placed writing
materials before the Rabbi, who with the reed-pen wrote, or rather
painted, a few Hebrew words upon the parchment. Then Leo, handing it to
his wife, said solemnly--

"Depart in peace!"

The fatal words were spoken. Countess wrapped herself and Rudolph in
the thick fur mantle, and turned to leave the room, saying to the m