tting out with contempt.

"A Jew that could teach many a Christian the virtues of his own faith,"
cried the former. "A Jew that never refused an alms to the poor, no
matter of what belief, and that never spoke ill of his neighbor."

"I never heard as much good of him before, and I have been a member of
the town council with him these thirty years."

The other touched his hat respectfully in recognition of the speaker's
rank, and said no more.

I took my little portmanteau in my hand as we landed, and made for a
small hotel which faced the sea. I had determined not to present myself
to the Herr Oppovich till morning, and to take that evening to see the
town and its-neighborhood.

As I strolled about, gazing with a stranger's curiosity at all that was
new and odd to me in this quiet spot, I felt coming over me that
deep depression which almost invariably falls upon him who, alone and
friendless, makes first acquaintance with the scene wherein he is to
live. How hard it is for him to believe that the objects he sees can
ever become of interest to him; how impossible it seems that he will
live to look on this as home; that he will walk that narrow street as
a familiar spot; giving back the kindly greetings that he gets, and
feeling that strange, mysterious sense of brotherhood that grows out of
daily intercourse with the same people!

I was curious to see where the Herr Oppovich lived, and found the place
after some search. The public garden of the town, a prettily planted
spot, lies between two mountain streams, flanked by tall mountains, and
is rather shunned by the inhabitants from its suspicion of damp. Through
this deserted spot--for I saw not one being as I went--I passed on to
a dark copse at the extreme end, and beyond which a small wooden bridge
led over to a garden wildly overgrown with evergreens and shrubs, and so
neglected that it was not easy at first to select the right path amongst
the many that led through the tangled brushwood. Following one of
these, I came out on a little lawn in front of a long low house of two
stories. The roof was high-pitched, and the windows narrow and defended
by strong iron shutters, which lay open on the outside wall, displaying
many a bolt and bar, indicative of strength and resistance. No smoke
issued from a chimney, not a sound broke the stillness, nor was there a
trace of any living thing around,--desolation like it I had never seen.
At last, a mean, half-starved dog cr