“Now look you,” said Reuben, twirling the delicate glass in a careless way that sent chill shudders down the tailor’s spine; “it is you who are stubborn. Not I. If you knew how devotedly I loved Barbara you would not, you could not be so heartless as to keep us apart.” “The foul fiends!” muttered Zalman. Beads of perspiration stood out upon his forehead; he was very pale. “You were young yourself once,” Reuben went on. “For the sake of your own youth, cast aside your stubbornness and give us your consent. Barbara! Barbara! Where are you?” The young woman, blushing like a rose, came out and stood beside him with lowered head and downcast eyes. “You see,” said Reuben, gently encircling her waist, “we love each other.” “The foul fiends!” muttered Zalman. “Help me, Barbara! Help me to plead with your father,” urged Reuben. But Barbara, abashed, could not find courage to raise her voice. Besides, she kept her kerchief pressed tightly against her lips. “Would you make your own daughter unhappy for the rest of her life?” Reuben went on. (At every sentence Zalman murmured as far as “The foul fiends!” then stopped.) “Everything is ready save your consent. The good Rabbi Elsberg is here. He can marry us on the spot. We can dispense with the betrothal. Our hearts have been betrothed for more than a year. I want no dowry. I only want Barbara. Can you be so cruel as to keep us apart?” The glass slipped from his fingers as if by accident, but deftly his hand swooped below it and caught it, unharmed. The tailor almost swooned. “Take her!” he cried, hoarsely. “In the foul fiend’s name take her! And give me the glass!” He held out his trembling hands. With a joyful cry Reuben pressed the girl tightly against his heart, and was about to kiss her when the rabbi’s voice rang out: “This is outrageous! I refuse to have anything to do with marrying them!” Reuben turned pale. To be so near victory, and now to lose everything through the desertion of his old friend, was an unexpected, disheartening blow. The tailor’s face brightened. Barbara, who had looked up quickly when the rabbi spoke, began to cry softly. “I have consented,” said Zalman. “That was what you asked, was it not? Now give me back my wine glass. I can do no more.” A faint smile had come into his face. It must have been his evil guardian who prompted that smile, for it gave Reuben heart. “If the rabbi will not marry us immediately,” said Reuben, “then I have lost everything, and have nothing more to live for.” With the utmost deliberation he raised an enormous iron that lay upon the counter, placed the glass carefully upon the floor, and held the iron directly over it. “I shall crush the glass into a million tiny bits beneath this ponderous weight!”