ugh he made
an estimate of her worth.

"That was her mother?" asked Truda. "The dead woman in the street, I
mean?"

"Yes," answered the man. "That was her mother. Her father went the
same way six months ago, but in another street."

Truda's lips parted, but she said nothing.

"Ah, perhaps your Excellency does not understand?" suggested the man.
The cynical humor in his face had no resemblance to mirth. "They were
Jews, you see--Jews."

"Judenhetze?" asked Truda. She had heard of old of that strange fever
that seizes certain peoples and inflames them with a rabid lust for
Jewish blood.

"Yes," answered the Jew. "That is what they call it. But a local
variety. Here it is not sudden passion, but a thing suggested to the
mob, and guided by police and officers. It is an expedient of
politics."

He spoke with a restraint that was more than any, emphasis.

"And therefore," he went on, "the kindness of your Excellency is the
greater, since you saved the child not from law-breakers, but from
authority itself."

"I have done nothing," said Truda. "The child is a dear little thing.
I--I wish she were mine."

"She, too, is a Jew," said the other.

"I know," answered Truda. The steadiness of his gaze was an
embarrassment by now. She flushed a little under it.

"I am wondering," she said, "if nothing can be done. I think--I
believe--that the world does not know of this persecution. Perhaps I
could say a word--in some high quarter----"

"Why should you concern yourself?" asked the Jew evenly. "Why should
you take this trouble?"

"Why?" Truda looked up at him, doubtful of his meaning.

He nodded. "Why?" he repeated. "It cannot be good for Truda
Schottelius to stand on the side of Jews?"

"What do you mean?" demanded Truda.

He continued to look at her steadily, but made no answer. She rose
from her chair and took one step towards him; then paused. A tense
moment of silence passed, and Truda Schottelius sighed.

"How did you know?" she asked, in a matter-of-fact tone.

The big young man smiled. "How did I know that you, too, were a Jew--
is that what you mean?" Truda nodded. "Ah, Excellency, there is an
instinct in this thing, and, besides, who but a Jew is a great artist
nowadays? Believe me, there is not one of us from whom you could hide
it."

"Is it as plain as that?" asked Truda.

"As plain as that," he replied. She laughed frankly, meeting his eyes
with unabashed mirth, till he perforce smiled in symp