ts. I have hired a vehicle, which is
waiting for us outside the Willow-bank Gate. The count says we are to go
on foot; that no one in the city must see you set out, and give
intelligence with regard to your movements. Since you have been gone I
have packed up all our effects in boxes, and our kind, faithful friend
Samuel Cohen will send them after us to Venice. What is indispensable for
present use I have packed up in yonder trunk, which we must take with us.
All is ready, Gabriel, and we can go. Only one thing I know not, have you
money enough for our journey?"

[Illustration: The Jewess in her Bridal Dress]

"Money enough!" repeated Gabriel, with a hoarse, mocking laugh. "I have
more money in my pocket than I ever had in my whole life put together. I
have so much money that we can buy a house in Venice, on the Ghetto; and
we shall, too, and I will live there with you, and will become a Jew, and
take another name, for my own name horrifies me. I will not, can not hear
it again!"

"Why not?" asked she earnestly. "It is a fine name--the name of a painter,
an artist. Why would you never again hear your own name, Gabriel Nietzel?"

"Because it is notorious, infamous!" groaned he--"because it is the name
of a--"

"Well, why do you hesitate, Gabriel?" asked Rebecca in anguish of soul,
while she laid both her hands upon his shoulders, and gazed upon him with
wistful glances. He would have avoided her eyes, but could not; his looks
must sink deep into those glittering, black eyes. Deep they looked, deep
as the sea, and he thought to himself that a secret could be buried there,
and rest secure in the bottom of her heart.

"Gabriel Nietzel," asked Rebecca, in a voice at once threatening and
tender--"Gabriel Nietzel, what have you done? What lies heavy upon your
soul?"

"Nothing, my Rebecca, nothing! Ask no questions! We must begone! Make
haste, dearest, take the child, and come; for if we do not hurry, we are
lost!"

She slowly shook her noble, graceful head and stirred not from her place.

She kept Gabriel in his with her hands, which she pressed more firmly upon
his shoulders.

"Gabriel, my dear, precious Gabriel, what have you done? Tell me. I demand
to know it as my right. When we were married on the Lido, in the solemn
stillness of the night, when we joined hands, and both swore in the
presence of your and my God that we would ever love one another, and that
death alone should part us, when you said, 'I take y