When Aaron rejoined his friend the colour had returned to his face, his step was firmer, his eye brighter. "There is an angel in my home," he said. "Let my enemies do their worst. I am armed against them. Does this article make any change in our friendship?" "It binds me closer to you, Cohen." Aaron pressed Mr. Moss's hand. "Love and friendship are mine," he said simply. "What more can I desire?" CHAPTER XLVI. RETRIBUTION. The following morning Aaron went to the office as usual, and quickly discovered that the poisoned arrow had found its mark. He was received with coldness, and the principals of the firm passed his desk without speaking to him. He observed the older employes whispering together, and looking at him furtively, avoiding his eye when he returned their gaze. His mind was soon made up; sending in his name to his employers he requested an interview with them. Upon entering the private room he saw upon the table a copy of the paper containing the scandalous attack; he did not change colour, he thought of Rachel's love, and his voice was firm and resigned. "You have read this article, Mr. Cohen?" said the principal member of the firm. "Yes, sir; I read it last night." "And you have come to explain----" He interrupted his employer mildly. "No, sir; I have not come to explain anything. I am here to tender my resignation." "You save us from a difficulty, Mr. Cohen. It was our intention to speak to you before the day was over. But still, if the story we have seen in the paper is not true--if it does not, after all, refer to you----" "The story is true," he said, "and it refers to me." "In that case," was the reply, "there is nothing more to be said. We regret the necessity, but it appears unavoidable. The cashier will pay you a month's salary in lieu of notice." "I can accept only what is due to me," said Aaron; and shortly afterwards he left the office. Not one of his fellow-clerks offered to shake hands with him as he went away; but the pang he felt was momentary. "Patience, patience," he murmured, raising his eyes to heaven. "To Thy decree, O God, I humbly submit. My punishment is just." He did not return home until evening, and then he said nothing to Rachel of his dismissal. The next day he went out and wandered aimlessly about the streets, choosing the thoroughfares where he would be least likely to be recognised. So the days passed, and still he had not the courage to speak to Rachel. "Perhaps in another country," he thought, "I may find rest, and Rachel and I will be allowed to pass the remainder of our life in peace."