His visit at that hour, and after his quarrel with Montella, was so totally unexpected that the occupants of the room were all taken aback. Dr. Engelmacher swallowed the remaining portion of his cake in one mouthful, after which he was obliged to hastily gulp down a glass of wine to save himself from choking. His friends stared at the new-comers with curiosity, and Lionel grasped the back of the chair with an air of defiance. But the most agitated of all was Patricia, who had recognised in one of Ben Yetzel’s companions the man she had met by Jeremiah’s Grotto, and again at the Tombs of the Kings. No wonder he had watched her so carefully; he was evidently in the Chief Rabbi’s service as a spy. Judging by the pomposity with which Ben Yetzel advanced into the room, his errand was aggressive in intent. Taking not the slightest notice of Montella, he began to talk to Dr. Engelmacher in Hebrew, his voice raised in excitement, and his features glowing with a fanatical light. For a while Lionel took no part in the colloquy, and listened in silence, with lowering brow; but at last he could restrain himself no longer, and spoke in the deep and peculiarly resonant voice which betrayed his agitation. Then there ensued a veritable babel of noise and confusion of tongues; for the simultaneous combination of Hebrew, German, and English, and all spoken in anger, did not conduce to the clear understanding of either side. Patricia had never felt so uncomfortable in her life. Although she could not understand exactly what they were saying, she knew that the dissension was in some way connected with herself. Her one desire was to escape from the room, but she dare not attract attention by rising from her seat. So she remained, until hearing her little boy crying in the room above, she took courage and moved towards the door. But the Rabbi’s lynx eyes caught the action, and just as she reached the threshold, she was asked by Dr. Engelmacher to remain. “I am very sorry, Lady Patricia,” he said, in a more gentle voice than he had used to the men, “but the Chief Rabbi is labouring under a misapprehension, and we had better set him right. He declares, on the authority of his employee here, that you joined in the service at the Church of St. George this evening. I have told him that the employee must have made a mistake, and perhaps confused you with your friend, the Princess; but he will not be satisfied until he hears the denial from your own lips. He wishes you to tell him yourself that you did not enter the church while service was proceeding.” There was a breathless pause. Patricia remained standing, her fair face proudly raised. “I cannot tell him that,” she said, addressing the doctor, but looking straight at the Rabbi. “I went to the church with the Princess—the first time for many years. I saw no harm in it, or I would not have gone. I did not think I was being watched.” Montella beat an impatient tattoo on the table at his side.