aid. "It is not allowed."

Father went away. I did not see him any more. I staggered up to my
room, went to bed, and slept immediately. The next day I got up at ten
o'clock. I left the city at noon.

Since that time, my dear sisters, you have not seen me. I don't know
anything more. At this minute I say to myself that what I know, what I
have set down here, is not true. Maybe it never happened, maybe I have
dreamed it all. I am not clear in my mind. I have a fever.

But I am not afraid of death. Here, on my hospital bed, I see the
professor's feverish but calm and wise face. When he grasped the
Hebrew by the throat he looked like a lover of Death, like one who has
a secret relation with the passing of life, who advocates the claims
of Death, and who punishes him who would cheat Death.

Now Death urges his claim upon me. I have no desire to cheat him--I am
so tired, so very tired.

God be with you, my dear sisters.

MAURUS JOKAI

_THIRTEEN AT TABLE_

We are far amidst the snow-clad mountains of Transylvania.

The scenery is magnificent. In clear weather, the plains of Hungary as
far as the Rez promontory may be seen from the summit of the
mountains. Groups of hills rise one above the other, covered with
thick forest, which, at the period when our tale commences, had just
begun to assume the first light green of spring.

Toward sunset, a slight purple mist overspread the farther pinnacles,
leaving their ridges still tinged with gold. On the side of one of
these hills the white turrets of an ancient family mansion gleamed
from amid the trees.

Its situation was peculiarly romantic. A steep rock descended on one
side, on whose pinnacle rose a simple cross. In the depth of the
valley beneath lay a scattered village, whose evening bells
melodiously broke the stillness of nature.

Farther off, some broken roofs arose among the trees, from whence the
sound of the mill, and the yellow-tinted stream, betrayed the miners'
dwellings.

Through the meadows in the valley beneath a serpentine rivulet wound
its silvery way, interrupted by numerous falls and huge blocks of
stone, which had been carried down in bygone ages from the mountains
during the melting of the snows.

A little path, cut in the side of the rock, ascended to the castle;
while higher up, a broad road, somewhat broken by the mountain
streams, conducted across the hills to more distant regions.

The castle itself was an old family mansion, wh