r of the young. "It is
something very particular," said Souchey.

"Very particular--is it?" said the Jew.

"Very particular indeed." said Souchey. Then Anton Trendellsohn led
the way back into the dark room on the ground-floor from whence he had
come, and invited Souchey to follow him. The shutters were up, and the
place was seldom used. There was a counter running through it, and a
cross-counter, such as are very common when seen by the light of day
in shops; but the place seemed to be mysterious to Souchey; and always
afterwards, when he thought of this interview, he remembered that his
tale had been told in the gloom of a chamber that had never been
arranged for honest Christian purposes.

"And now, what is it you have to tell me?" said the Jew.

After some fashion Souchey told his tale, and the Jew listened to him
without a word of interruption. More than once Souchey had paused,
hoping that the Jew would say something; but not a sound had fallen
from Trendellsohn till Souchey's tale was done.

"And it is so--is it?" said the Jew when Souchey ceased to speak. There
was nothing in his voice which seemed to indicate either sorrow or joy,
or even surprise.

"Yes, it is so," said Souchey.

"And how much am I to pay you for the information?" the Jew asked.

"You are to pay me nothing," said Souchey.

"What! you betray your mistress gratis?"

"I do not betray her," said Souchey. "I love her and the old man too.
I have been with them through fair weather and through foul. I have
not betrayed her."

"Then why have you come to me with this story?"

The whole truth was almost on Souchey's tongue. He had almost said that
his sole object was to save his mistress from the disgrace of marrying
a Jew. But he checked himself, then paused a moment, and then left the
room and the house abruptly. He had done his commission, and the fewer
words which he might have with the Jew after that the better.

On the following morning Nina was seated by her father's bedside, when
her quick ear caught through the open door the sound of a footstep in
the hall below. She looked for a moment at the old man, and saw that if
not sleeping he appeared to sleep. She leaned over him for a moment,
gave one gentle touch with her hand to the bed-clothes, then crept out
into the parlour, and closed behind her the door of the bed-room. When
in the middle of the outer chamber she listened again, and there was
clearly a step on the stairs. She li