ester,
debauchee, spendthrift as he was, he had never yet perpetrated an act
that could be termed a crime. The seduction of the Countess of Arestino
was not a crime in his estimation--oh! no, because man may seduce, and
yet may not be dishonored in the eyes of the world. It is his victim, or
the partner of his guilty pleasure, only, who is dishonored. Such is the
law written in society's conventional code. Vile, detestable, unjust
law!

To weigh and balance the reasons for or against the perpetration of a
crime, to pause only for an instant to reflect whether the deed shall or
shall not be done--this is to yield at once to the temptation. The
desperate man who hovers hesitatingly between right and wrong,
invariably adopts the latter course.

And Manuel of Orsini was not an exception to the general rule.

Silence, and calmness, and moonlight were still spread over the City of
Flowers, while the marquis pursued the path leading to the suburb of
Alla Droce. And the silver-faced stars shone on--shone on, brightly and
sweetly, as the young nobleman knocked at the well-protected door of
Isaachar ben Solomon.

For a long time his summons remained unanswered; and he repeated it
several times ere it received the slightest attention.

At last a casement was opened slowly on the upper story; and the Jew
demanded who sought admittance at that hour.

"'Tis I, the Marquis of Orsini!" exclaimed the nobleman.

"A thousand pardons, my lord; I come directly," answered the Jew, not
daring to offend a scion of the omnipotent aristocracy of Florence, yet
filled with some misgivings, the more painful because they were so vague
and undefined.

In a few moments Manuel was admitted into the abode of Isaachar ben
Solomon, who carefully barred and bolted the door again, ere he even
thought of alleviating his acute suspense by inquiring the nobleman's
business.

"Deign to enter this humble apartment, my lord," said the Jew, at
length, as he conducted the marquis into the same room where he had a
few hours previously received the bandit-captain.

"Isaachar," exclaimed Manuel, flinging himself upon a seat, "you behold
a desperate man before you!"

"Alas! my lord, what can a poor, aged, and obscure individual like
myself do to assist so great and powerful a noble as your lordship?"
said the Jew in a trembling tone.

"What can you do?" repeated the marquis: "much--everything, old man! But
listen patiently, for a few moments only. A nob