h pain, that I
absolutely lost all power of speech, and could only look the distress
which I felt. Mordecai gazed on me with an enquiring countenance.

"You love this mother, Mr Marston. You are a good son. We Israelites,
with all our faults, respect the feelings which 'honour the father and
the mother.' It is a holy love, and well earned by the cares and sorrows
of parentage." He paused, and covered his forehead with his gigantic
hands. I could hear him murmur the name of his daughter. The striking of
a neighbouring church clock startled him from his reverie.

Suddenly again bustling among his papers, he said--"Within this half
hour, your brother is to call again for my definitive answer. Now,
listen to me. The jointure shall be purchased." I bit my lip; but he did
not leave me long in suspense--"And _you_ shall be the purchaser." He
wrote a cheque for the amount, and placed it in my hand.

"Mordecai, you are a noble fellow! But how am I to act upon this? I am
worth nothing. I might as well attempt to repay millions."

"Well, so be it, Mr Marston. You are a man of honor, and a good son. You
will repay it when you can. I exact but one condition: that you will
come and visit Mariamne and me in Poland."

A loud knock at the hall-door put an end to our interview.

"That is your brother," said he. "You must not see him, as I choose to
keep the name of the purchaser to myself. Take your mother's letter with
you; and give her my best advice to write no more--at least to such
correspondents as his lordship."

I rose to take my leave. He followed me hastily; and, taking me by the
hand, said--"Another condition I have to make. It is, that not a
syllable of all that has passed between us on this subject shall be
suffered to transpire. I should make but a bad figure on 'Change, if I
were suspected of transactions in that style. Remember, it must be a
profound secret to all the world."

"Even to my wife?" I asked. "Is _she_ included?"

"No, no," he replied, with a faint laugh; "I look upon you as a mere
mortal still. All vows are void in their nature, which require
impossibilities in their execution." We parted.

I told my little city tale to Clotilde. She wept and smiled alternately,
as I told it. Mordecai received all his due praise; and we pledged
ourselves to find out his Mariamne, in whatever corner of the Lithuanian
wilderness she might have hidden her fantastic heart and head. But I had
now another duty. Within a