at small, thin, trembling woman's hand,
which had shielded him from a rough act of force, caused a touching
smile of tenderness to appear on his lips. It was also a smile of
hope.

"If I could only get that writing," he said to himself, passing his
hand over his forehead.

He was thinking of the writing of Michael the Senior, of which the
old great-grandmother alone knew the whereabouts. He thought also
that if he could only find it he would know what to say and how to
act.

In the meantime Saul sat for a long time, breathing heavily from
weariness, and sighing from grief. He looked several times at his
mother and smiled. The intervention of this silent, continually
dozing, hundred-year-old-woman for her great-grandson, seemed strange
to him, and perhaps in the bottom of his heart he was grateful to her
for not permitting him to wrong his orphan grandson in a moment of
anger.

After a while he called: "Raphael."

The call was answered by a dignified dark-eyed man, already growing
gray--his oldest son. After Saul he was the oldest of the family. He
himself had grown-up grandchildren and was doing a very large
business. On hearing his father call him he left his office and came
to him immediately.

"Do you know if Eli Witebski is home?" asked Saul.

"Yes, he returned home yesterday," answered his son.

"Someone must go there at once and tell him that I wish to see him,
and talk with him about an important matter."

"I will go myself," said Raphael; "I know about what you are going to
talk with Witebski. You have an excellent idea, and it must be
executed immediately. Meir may go astray if he is not married soon."

Saul's eyes searched his son's face inquiringly. "Raphael, do you
think he will change when he is married?"

Raphael nodded his head affirmatively.

"Father," said he, "remember Ber. He was on the same road which Meir
is travelling, but then he married Sarah, and you, father, took him
into partnership and when the children began to come, one after
another, all these stupid ideas left his head."

"Go! Call Witebski to me," concluded Saul.

Raphael left the room, and was soon walking in the direction of the
house which stood at the corner of the two largest streets. On the
piazza sat a plump woman in a silk gown, and a mantilla buckled with
a gold brooch. On her ears were long earrings, and a carefully-combed
wig was on her head. She was about forty, and looked fresh and
healthy. Her mouth wore