d to make a gesture of entreaty, when he moved his arms imploring
her to wait, Luna had already disappeared.

How was he to approach her, breaking through the guarded aloofness in
which Jewish families dwell? To whom was he to go for an explanation of
this unexpected change?... Braving the icy reception with which the
Aboabs greeted him, he entered their place under various pretexts. The
proprietors received him with frigid politeness, as if he were an
unwelcome customer. The Jews who came in on business eyed him with
insolent curiosity, as if but a short time before they had been
discussing him.

One morning he saw, engaged in conversation with Zabulon, a man of about
forty, of short stature, somewhat round shouldered with spectacles. He
wore a high silk hat, a loose coat and a large golden chain across his
waistcoat. In a somewhat sing-song voice he was speaking of the
greatness of Buenos Aires, of the future that awaited those of his race
in that city, of the good business he had done. The affectionate
attention with which the old man and his son listened to the man
suggested a thought to Aguirre that sent all the blood to his heart, at
the same time producing a chill in the rest of his body. He shuddered
with surprise. Could it be _he_?... And after a few seconds,
instinctively, without any solid grounds, he himself gave the answer.
Yes; it was he; there had been no mistake. Without a doubt he beheld
before him Luna's promised husband, who had just returned from South
America. And if he still had any doubts as to the correctness of his
conjecture, he was strengthened in his belief by a rapid glance from the
man,--a cold, scornful look that was cast upon him furtively, while the
looker continued to speak with his relatives.

That night he saw him again on Royal Street. He saw him, but not alone.
He was arm in arm with Luna, who was dressed in black; Luna, who leaned
upon him as if he were already her husband; the two walked along with
all the freedom of Jewish engaged couples. She did not see Aguirre or
did not wish to see him. As she passed him by she turned her head,
pretending to be engrossed in conversation with her companion.

Aguirre's friends, who were gathered in a group on the sidewalk before
the Exchange, laughed at the meeting, with the light-heartedness of
persons who look upon love only as a pastime.

"Friend," said one of them to the Spaniard, "they've stolen her away
from you. The Jew's carrying h