hild, I get on very well."

They were all glad, oh, so glad, that the "young woman" was so healthy
and strong, and that she got richer day by day; they boasted of it
where-ever they went.

"Our Rosalia is getting on well. It is easy to get on in Babaszek, we
are good-natured people."

They really made things very comfortable for Rosalia. She was over
seventy, but they still called her "mlada pani" (young woman). As the
king reserves to himself the right of conferring various titles, so the
people have adopted the plan of conferring the "title of youth," and
make use of it when and where they like.

Well, as I said before, they took great care of Rosalia, and when, a few
years after her arrival there, she decided to build a stone house, every
one who owned a cart placed it at her disposal, for the carting of
stones, sand, wood, etc.; the bricklayers gave a day's work without
wages; only one or two of the lazier ones did not join the rest on that
day, but were sent to Coventry for it.

"Good-for-nothing fellows," said every one, "they have no respect for
any one, neither for God, the priest, nor a Jew!"

Their respect went so far as to make them (at the mayor's instigation)
set apart two pieces of ground, one for a (future) synagogue, and one
for a Jewish burial-ground (for the one Jewess they had in the town).
But what did that matter? They had the future before them, and who could
tell what it held for them? And it was so nice to be able to say to
strangers: "Just a stone's throw from the Jewish burial-ground," or
"near to the foundation of the Synagogue," etc. And the inhabitants of
the villages round about would say when the good folks turned their
backs: "Poor things! Their brains have been turned with the joy of
having a Jew in their town!"

CHAPTER III.

THE TRACES LEAD TO GLOGOVA.

One fine spring afternoon, a light sort of dog-cart stopped before Mrs.
Muencz's shop, and a young man sprang out of it, Gyuri Wibra, of course.

Rosalia, who was just standing at her door, speaking to Mr. Mravucsan,
the mayor, and Mr. Galba, one of the senators, immediately turned to the
young man with the question:

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"Are you Mrs. Muencz?"

"Yes, sir."

"I want to buy an umbrella."

The two gentlemen, surprised, looked up at the cloudless sky.

"What the devil does he want to buy an umbrella for?" muttered
Mravucsan.

Then added aloud:

"Where are you from, sir?"

"From