d to unbolt the street-door. Almost at the same
moment a heavy hand clasped his own.

"Father, father!" Ephraim cried, trying to raise his parent's hand to
his lips.

"Make no noise," the man repeated, in a somewhat commanding tone.

With his father's hand in his, cautiously feeling his way, Ephraim
led him into the room. In the room adjoining lay Viola, sleeping
peacefully....

Time was when "Wild" Ascher's welcome home had been far otherwise.
Eighteen years before, upon that very threshold which he now crossed
with halting, stealthy steps, as of a thief in the night, stood a fair
and loving wife, holding a sturdy lad aloft in her arms, so that the
father might at once see, as he turned the street corner, that wife and
child were well and happy. Not another Ghetto in all Bohemia could show
a handsomer and happier couple than Ascher and his wife. "Wild" Ascher
was one of those intrepid, venturesome spirits, to whom no obstacle is
so great that it cannot be surmounted. And the success which crowned
his long, persistent wooing was often cited as striking testimony to his
indomitable will. Gudule was famous throughout the Ghetto as "the girl
with the wonderful eyes," eyes--so the saying ran--into which no man
could look and think of evil. During the earlier years of their married
life those unfathomable brown eyes exercised on Ascher the full power of
their fascination. A time came, however, when he alleged that those very
eyes had been the cause of all his ruin.

Gudule's birthplace was far removed from the Ghetto, where Ascher had
first seen the light. Her father was a wealthy farmer in a secluded
village in Lower Bohemia. But distant though it was from the nearest
town of any importance, the solitary grange became the centre of
attraction to all the young swains far and near. But there was none
who found favor in Gudule's eyes save "Wild Ascher," in spite of many a
friendly warning to beware of him. One day, just before the betrothal of
the young people, an anonymous letter was delivered at the grange.
The writer, who called himself an old friend, entreated the farmer to
prevent his dear child from becoming the wife of one who was suspected
of being a gambler. The farmer was of an easy-going, indulgent nature,
shunning care and anxiety as a very plague. Accordingly, no sooner had
he read the anonymous missive than he handed it to his daughter, as
though its contents were no concern of his.

When Gudule had read t