, pointed to the women in the street beneath.

Xantippe hid her face on her husband's breast and cried softly, while
she murmured, "No, no; I will never consent."

"Then the child will die," answered the Greek, curtly, flinging her from
him.

And the poor woman cast herself upon the bed beside her boy, and when
her tears ceased for a moment stammered, "When?"

"To-morrow," was the answer, cruel and peremptory. And as Gregorio
closed the lattice, shutting out the noise of song and laughter, the
room echoed with the mighty sobbing of a woman who was betrayed, and who
repeated hysterically, while kissing the face of her child, "To-morrow,
to-morrow there will be food for you."

And Gregorio slept peacefully, for the danger of starvation was over; he
would yet live to see his son become rich.

And the woman?

He kissed her before he slept, and women always cry.

IV--CONCERNING TWO WOMEN

Gregorio felt a little bit ashamed of himself next morning. The
excitement had passed, and the full meaning of his words came back to
him and made him shudder. The sun, already risen, sent shafts of light
between the lips of the wooden lattice. A faint sound of life and
movement stole upward from the street below. But Xantippe and the boy
still slumbered, though the woman's form shook convulsively at times,
for she sobbed in her sleep.

Gregorio looked at the two for a minute and then raised himself with
an oath. The woman's heavy breathing irritated him, for, after all, he
argued, it was her duty as well as his to sacrifice herself for the lad.
Moreover, the Jew must be paid, and to-day was that appointed by Amos
for the settling of their account. There was no money to pay it with,
and they must lose their furniture, so much at least was certain. But
Amos would not have the best of the bargain, thought the Greek as he
looked round the room with a grin, and the certainty that he had got
the better of Amos for the moment cheered his spirits. Then, too, after
to-day there would be plenty to eat, for his wife could manage to earn
money; nor was the man so mean in his villainy as to shirk any effort to
earn money himself. After first looking at his wife critically and with
a satisfied smile, he touched her on the shoulder to wake her.

"I am going out for work," he said, as Xantippe opened her eyes.

"All right."

"Good-bye."

But Xantippe answered not. She turned her face to the wall wearily as
Gregorio left her.

Ent