feet, to make it go up and the
play begin." But the undercurrent of the speaker's thoughts was quite
different. "What if Manasseh shouldn't come by noon--by nightfall?" he
was asking himself. "Then what is to become of this poor girl?" Aloud
once more: "That lad Manasseh must have made a little mistake--just like
these young men! He probably took the longer way, instead of following
my advice. But just look out toward the entrance, and see how the sun
shines in through the leaves and lights up the whole grotto like a fairy
palace."

Blanka, however, was feeling so heavy of heart and, in a vague way, so
fearful of impending misfortune, that she was in no mood to enjoy the
splendours around her. She crossed her hands on her bosom and, in the
half-light of this mysterious subterranean cathedral, yielded to the
awe-inspiring influence of the place and gave utterance, in a subdued
chant, to these words of the psalmist:

"Hear me, O God, nor hide thy face,
But answer, lest I die."

Aaron could control his feelings no longer. Throwing himself down on his
face, he began to sob as only a strong man can when he is at last moved
to tears, not by any selfish grief, but by the very burden of his love
and anxiety for others.

But at that moment the psalm was broken off, and Aaron heard himself
called three times by name. He rose to his knees and looked toward the
opening of the grotto, where a glad and unexpected sight met his eyes.
Glorified by the flood of light that poured in from without, appeared
the forms of three men, the middle one being the tallest and stateliest.
They were Manasseh and his two brothers, David and Simon.

Aaron sprang up and threw himself on them with an inarticulate cry like
that of a lioness recovering her lost cubs. Embraces and kisses were not
enough: he bore them to the ground and thumped them soundly on the back
in the excess of his emotion.

"You rascal, you good-for-nothing, you shameless rogue, to worry me like
that!" he exclaimed, accosting now one, now the other of his two lost
brothers, after which he embraced them both once more.

"And am I of no account?" asked Manasseh. "Have I no share in all this?"

"You are your brothers' father," Aaron made answer, "before whom they
prostrate themselves, even as the sheaves of Joseph's brethren bowed
before his sheaf. We are all your humble slaves." So saying, he threw
himself at Manasseh's feet and embraced his knees. "Torda Gap is,
indeed