e you lying here? Did you not
receive a note last night?'

'A note? So I did, but I was too sleepy to read it. There it lies. Boy,
bring it here....What's this? A scrap out of Jeremiah? "Arise, and
flee for thy life, for evil is determined against the whole house
of Israel!"--Does this come from the chief rabbi; I always took the
venerable father for a sober man.... Eh, Miriam?'

'Fool! instead of laughing at the sacred words of the prophets, get up
and obey them. I sent you the note.'

'Why can't I obey them in bed? Here I am, reading hard at the Cabbala,
or Philo--who is stupider still--and what more would you have?'

The old woman, unable to restrain her impatience, literally ran at him,
gnashing her teeth, and, before he was aware, dragged him out of bed
upon the floor, where he stood meekly wondering what would come next.

'Many thanks, mother, for having saved me the one daily torture of
life--getting out of bed by one's own exertion.'

'Raphael Aben-Ezra! are you so besotted with your philosophy and your
heathenry, and your laziness, and your contempt for God and man, that
you will see your nation given up for a prey, and your wealth plundered
by heathen dogs? I tell you, Cyril has sworn that God shall do so to
him, and more also, if there be a Jew left in Alexandria by to-morrow
about this time.'

'So much the better for the Jews, then, if they are half as tired
of this noisy Pandemonium as I am. But how can I help it? Am I Queen
Esther, to go to Ahasuerus there in the prefect's palace, and get him to
hold out the golden sceptre to me?'

'Fool! if you had read that note last night, you might have gone and
saved us, and your name would have been handed down for ever from
generation to generation as a second Mordecai.'

'My dear mother, Ahasuerus would have been either fast asleep, or far
too drunk to listen to me. Why did you not go yourself?'

'Do you suppose that I would not have gone if I could? Do you fancy me
a sluggard like yourself? At the risk of my life I have got hither in
time, if there be time to save you.'

'Well: shall I dress? What can be done now?'

'Nothing! The streets are blockaded by Cyril's mob--There! do you hear
the shouts and screams? They are attacking the farther part of the
quarter already.'

'What! are they murdering them?' asked Raphael, throwing on his pelisse.
'Because, if it has really come to a practical joke of that kind, I
shall have the greatest pleasure in empl