common."

Gotzkowsky did not answer him. He crossed the room hastily, and
stepped to his writing-table, out of a secret drawer of which he drew
a dark-red case. He opened it and snatched out the diamond ring that
was contained in it.

"I do not wish your gratitude," said he, turning to Ephraim, anger
flashing from his countenance--"and if you could offer me all the
treasures of the world, I would throw them to the earth, as I do this
ring!" And he cast down the costly jewel at Ephraim's feet.

The latter raised it coolly from the ground and examined it carefully.
He then broke out into a loud, scornful laugh. "This is the ring which
the Jews presented to you when you procured our exemption from the
war-tax. You give it to me?"

"I give it to you, and with it a curse on the tempter of my honor!"

"You repulse me, then? You will have none of my gratitude?"

"Yes; if your hand could save me from the abyss, I would reject it!"

"Let it be so, then," said Ephraim; and his face assumed an expression
of hatred and malice--for now it could be perceived that the rich
Ephraim was again overcome by Gotzkowsky, although the latter was a
poor and shattered man. His sympathy and his help had only met with
a proud refusal from him whom he had not succeeded in humbling and
dragging down to the dust.

"Let it be so, then!" he repeated, gnashing his teeth. "You will
not have it otherwise. I take the ring," and looking at Gotzkowsky
maliciously, he continued: "With this ring I will buy you a place in
the churchyard, that the dishonored bankrupt may, at least, find
an honorable grave, and not be shovelled in like De Neufville the
suicide!"

"What do you say--De Neufville is dead?" cried Gotzkowsky, hurrying
after him as he neared the door, and seizing him violently by the arm.
"Say it once more--De Neufville is dead?"

Ephraim enjoyed for a moment, in silence, Gotzkowsky's terrible grief.
He then freed himself from his grasp and opened the door. But turning
round once more, and looking in Gotzkowsky's face with a devilish
grin, he slowly added, "De Neufville killed himself because he could
not survive disgrace." And then, with a loud laugh, he slammed the
door behind him.

Gotzkowsky stared after him, and his soul was full of inexpressible
grief. He had lost in De Neufville not only a friend whom he loved,
and on whose fidelity he could count, but his own future and his last
hope were buried in his grave. But his own torment