ercy. Rabbi Mendel himself carried the document to the palace,
trusting to supplement the petition with his own eloquence.

Alas! the time when Mendel Winenki was a power in the Governor's house
had long since passed. There was a ruler now who knew not of the Rabbi
and his deeds, and Mendel had not even the satisfaction of speaking to
his excellency in person. He and his petition were referred to the Chief
of Police, the official who was supposed to have the entire matter in
charge.

Sick at heart, Mendel sought that worthy functionary. He carefully read
the petition, put it in his pocket and promised to look up the case and
report it to the Governor as soon as possible.

It was poor consolation that the Rabbi took to his people. Their
petition had accomplished nothing. It was not even possible to discover
where Joseph was concealed and whether he had already been sentenced or
not. Kathinka was heart-broken. She knew not what to do. A praiseworthy
impulse to go to the palace and throw herself at the Governor's feet was
checked by the thought that Loris might be there to delight in her
humiliation and to use his power to defeat her prayer.

After several weeks of suspense, the poor girl received a letter. It was
in a strange handwriting and she opened it with trembling hands. She
glanced hastily at the signature and with a cry allowed the missive to
fall to the ground.

"What is it, Kathinka?" asked the Rabbi, who had been sitting near-by.

"Read it, father; it is from Drentell!" cried his daughter.

The Rabbi took the letter up anxiously and his eyes ran eagerly over its
contents. Kathinka saw the deadly pallor that spread over his
countenance, watched his quivering lip and darkening brow. He read to
the end, and crumpling the letter in his hand, he threw himself upon the
sofa in a paroxysm of grief. The girl who had never before seen her
father so affected became seriously alarmed.

"What is it, father? What does he write?" she asked.

"Read it, my child; it is for you," sobbed the poor man. "Read it and
decide," and he handed the letter to his daughter, while the tears ran
down his cheeks.

Kathinka, with varied emotions, opened out the paper and read the
contents. The note was as follows:

BELOVED KATHINKA:--You will justly reproach me for having
remained silent so long, but do not attribute it to a waning of my
affection. I love you more devotedly, more tenderly than ever. Your
cru