not met one of those monsters
of ingratitude whom a kind act embitters. But it would hardly appear
that he could survive the beating by Baboushka's gang, the ill usage
from the street sweepers and that of the ghouls of the dead-house. All
this makes me tremble for the plan I formed to have you conveyed hence
in a chaise. I have the papers to cover your departure as a clerk whom a
business firm of good standing are sending out to Buenos Ayres. Once at
Hamburg, you may turn your face in any direction you desire. But the
slayer of Major Von Sendlingen would not be able to cross the French or
Italian frontier."

"For a man intending to see Italy, that would be taking me greatly out
of the road," muttered Claudius, sinking into a chair.

"Then go as far as Ulm only, where you will let the train proceed
without you. Send for a doctor whose address I will give you and I
answer for his helping you to get into Switzerland. After all, that will
be better. But I see that you are weak with your exertions and want of
proper nourishment."

"It is rest I most need."

"Then stretch yourself on this sofa, and let me cover you with a
traveling-rug. When you awake, refreshments will be at hand."

"But you, whom I deprive of rest?"

"It is true that anxiety about you, my young friend, has prevented me
lying down, but I am not desirous of sleep now. Do as I tell you. I will
countermand the chaise, and return with the food. This house is not a
famous inn, but my coreligionists, who are traveling merchants, frequent
it, and the edibles are good. As for the honesty of the servants and of
the host, I guarantee it. Unless you have been dogged to the door, I
believe you are safe."

Claudius said that he seemed not to have been followed. At the house, a
patrolman had caught a glimpse of him but the ostler had jestingly
turned him off and quieted his suspicions. Before his host had reached
the door, where he paused to look back, the young man was nodding with
eyes closing in spite of his will, and he was soon steeped in slumber.

"The sleep on the night before execution," muttered the Jew. "This is a
sad matter! That Baboushka is a witch of malevolence, or I am woefully
misinformed, and the major an awkward antagonist. I would a thousand
miles separated my daughter, and this young man, from both of them."

In the lobby he saw a young girl, with her hair in curl-papers and a
candle in her hand, descending the stairs from above.

"Ah, Hed