mystic belief of race destiny which lives so
strongly in the children of Israel. Wilhelmine, upon whom no hint of
power, of fate, or of belief in the unknown, ever failed to work,
listened with growing interest. She questioned the old crone, and
succeeded in drawing from her a long and impassioned tirade upon the
wrongs of the race of Israel.

No one could charm people as could Wilhelmine; her vitality, her sonorous
voice, the quick sympathy which drew confidences from the most
reserved--in fine, her magnetic force, made her, when she chose, the most
irresistible of beings. And she exerted herself to exercise her
attraction upon the Jewess, for her curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and
also with her strange instinct for power she scented a possible use to
her, if she could count upon the adherence of a silent, secret force like
the Jews. The old Jewess told how her people were constantly in
communication with their fellow Jews of every land; she said that one who
did a service to a Jew was always sure of finding support from the whole
race; and Wilhelmine's quick brain and vivid imagination wove a romantic
web, herself the centre thereof, holding in one hand the power of
Wirtemberg's court, and in the other the secret thread commanding the
commercial enterprises undertaken by freed and grateful Israelites.
Romantic certainly, but very lucrative to the heroine of this self-woven
romance!

'Well, Widow Hazzim,' she said at length, 'destiny has brought me to you.
Some day I may have power to help your race, will you vouch me gratitude
and support in return?' She spoke lightly, but her eyes were serious and
watchful, and her hands gripped the essence-soaked kerchief which she had
taken from her brow.

The Jewess laughed. 'Do us a service and you will see!' she answered.

At this moment the door, which led to some inner room, opened, and a boy
appeared on the threshold.

'My great-nephew, lady,' said the Jewess; 'his mother is my niece. He can
sing like the heavenly seraphim, and great beauty of body is his as
well.' She whispered the last statement in that fatal whisper wherewith
the aged often give conceited self-consciousness to children.

The boy advanced: graceful, perfect in line, glowing in his Jewish
youthful beauty, which is usually over-bold, a trifle insolent and hard.
He approached Wilhelmine, and bent before her in a salute so ceremonious
that it was at once strangely appealing from a child, and yet unctuo