emed
to be discussing some important subject, for they were gesticulating
vehemently.

At this spectacle Rabbi Aser Abarbanel closed his eyes: his heart beat
so violently that it almost suffocated him; his rags were damp with the
cold sweat of agony; he lay motionless by the wall, his mouth wide open,
under the rays of a lamp, praying to the God of David.

Just opposite to him the two inquisitors paused under the light of the
lamp--doubtless owing to some accident due to the course of their
argument. One, while listening to his companion, gazed at the rabbi!
And, beneath the look--whose absence of expression the hapless man did
not at first notice--he fancied he again felt the burning pincers scorch
his flesh, he was to be once more a living wound. Fainting, breathless,
with fluttering eyelids, he shivered at the touch of the monk's floating
robe. But--strange yet natural fact--the inquisitor's gaze was evidently
that of a man deeply absorbed in his intended reply, engrossed by what
he was hearing; his eyes were fixed--and seemed to look at the Jew
_without seeing him_.

In fact, after the lapse of a few minutes, the two gloomy figures slowly
pursued their way, still conversing in low tones, toward the place
whence the prisoner had come; HE HAD NOT BEEN SEEN! Amid the horrible
confusion of the rabbi's thoughts, the idea darted through his brain:
"Can I be already dead that they did not see me?" A hideous impression
roused him from his lethargy: in looking at the wall against which his
face was pressed, he imagined he beheld two fierce eyes watching him! He
flung his head back in a sudden frenzy of fright, his hair fairly
bristling! Yet, no! No. His hand groped over the stones: it was the
_reflection_ of the inquisitor's eyes, still retained in his own, which
had been refracted from two spots on the wall.

Forward! He must hasten toward that goal which he fancied (absurdly, no
doubt) to be deliverance, toward the darkness from which he was now
barely thirty paces distant. He pressed forward faster on his knees, his
hands, at full length, dragging himself painfully along, and soon
entered the dark portion of this terrible corridor.

Suddenly the poor wretch felt a gust of cold air on the hands resting
upon the flags; it came from under the little door to which the two
walls led.

Oh, Heaven, if that door should open outward. Every nerve in the
miserable fugitive's body thrilled with hope. He examined it from top to