ine, and put
them under Count Frohlinger's command. It is his duty to aid us. What
they cannot find with their attendants, squires, beaters and hounds, is
not hidden in the forest. Your blessing, Holy Father, there is no time
to lose."

The abbot was alone.

He gazed thoughtfully at the coals in the fireplace, recalling
everything he had just seen and heard, while his vivid power of
imagination showed him the learned, unassuming man, who had spent long
years in quiet seclusion, industriously devoting himself to the pursuit
of knowledge. A slight feeling of envy stole into his heart; how
rarely he himself was permitted to pursue undisturbed, and without
interruption, the scientific subjects, in which alone he found pleasure.

He was vexed with himself, that he could feel so little anger against a
criminal, whose guilt was deserving of death, and reproached himself for
lukewarmness. Then he remembered that the Jew had sinned for love, and
that to him who has loved much, much should be forgiven. Finally,
it seemed a great boon, that he was soon to be permitted to make the
acquaintance of the worthy doctor from Coimbra. Never had the zealous
magistrate appeared so repulsive as to-day, and when he remembered how
the crafty man had outwitted poor Father Anselm in his presence, he felt
as if he had himself committed an unworthy deed. And yet, yet--the Jew
could not be saved, and had deserved what threatened him.

A monk summoned him, but the abbot did not wish to be disturbed, and
ordered that he should be left an hour alone.

He now took in his hand a volume he called the mirror of his soul, and
in which he noted many things "for the confession," that he desired to
determine to his own satisfaction. To-day he wrote:

"It would be a duty to hate a Jew and criminal, zealously to persecute
what Holy Church has condemned. Yet I cannot do so. Who is the
magistrate, and what are Father Anselm and this learned doctor! The one
narrow-minded, only familiar with the little world he knows and in which
he lives, the others divinely-gifted, full of knowledge, rulers in the
wide domain of thought. And the former outwits the latter, who show
themselves children in comparison with him. How Anselm stood before
him! The deceived child was great, the clever man small. What men call
cleverness is only small-minded persons' skill in life; simplicity is
peculiar to the truly great man, because petty affairs are too small for
him, and his ey