ners of his lip; "they 'll want to know who your
guest is. Why don't you go and tell them?"

"Father!" cried Ephraim.

"Then be good enough to draw down the blinds.... What business is it of
theirs who your guest is? Let them attend to their own affairs.... But
they would n't be of 'the chosen race' if they did n't want to know what
was taking place in the furthermost corner of your brain. You can't be
too careful with them... you 're never secure against their far-scenting
noses and their sharp, searching eyes."

It was now broad daylight. Ephraim drew down the blinds.

"The blinds are too white..." Ascher muttered, and moving a chair
forward, he sat down upon it with his back to the window.

Ephraim proceeded to wind the phylacteries round his arm, and commenced
to say his prayers softly.

His devotions over, he hurriedly took the phylacteries from his head and
hand.

Ascher was still sitting immovable, his back to the window, his eyes
fixed upon the door.

"Why don't you ask me where I 've left my luggage?" he suddenly cried.

"I 'll fetch it myself if you 'll tell me where it is," Ephraim
remarked, in all simplicity.

"Upon my word, you make me laugh," cried Ascher, and a laugh like that
of delirium burst from his lips. "All I can say, Ephraim, is, the most
powerful giant upon earth would break his back beneath the weight of my
luggage!"

Then only did Ephraim grasp his father's meaning.

"Don't worry yourself, father..." he said lovingly.

"Would you like to support me, perhaps!" Ascher shouted, with cutting
disdain.

Ephraim's heart almost ceased to beat. Then movements were heard in the
adjoining room.

"Have you any one with you?" cried Ascher, springing up. His sharp ears
had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized
with violent trembling.

"Father, it's only dear Viola," said Ephraim.

A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand
convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed
to his temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm
what a terrible change had come over his father's features during the
last few seconds: his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost
their lustre, he seemed to have aged ten years.

The door opened, and Viola entered.

"Viola!" cried Ephraim, "here is our--"

"Welcome!" said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few steps
nearer. She extended her hand towards h