Belasez found her mother returned from Lincoln. She received a warm welcome from Abraham, a much cooler one from Licorice, and was very glad, having arrived at home late, to go to bed in her own little chamber, which was inside that of her parents. She soon dropped asleep, but was awoke ere long by voices in the adjoining room, distinctly audible through the curtain which alone separated the chambers. They spoke in Spanish, the language usually employed amongst themselves by the English Sephardim. "_Ay de mi_, [`Woe is me!'] that it ever should have been so!" said the voice of Licorice. "What did the shiksah [Note 1] want with her?" "I told thee, wife," answered Abraham, in a slightly injured tone, "she wanted the child to embroider a scarf." "And I suppose thou wert too anxious to fill thy saddle-bags to care for the danger to her?" "There was no danger at all, wife. The Countess promised all I asked her. And I made thirteen gold pennies clear profit. Thou canst see the child is no worse--they have been very kind to her: she said as much." "Abraham, son of Ursel, thou art a very wise man!" "What canst thou mean, Licorice?" "`Kind to her!' If they had starved her and beaten her, there might have been no harm done. Canst thou not see that the girl's heart is with her Christian friends? Why, she had been crying behind her veil, quietly, all the journey." "Well, wife? What then?" "`What then?' Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob! `What then?' Why, then--she will do like Anegay." "The God of our fathers forbid it!" cried Abraham, in tones of horror and distress. "It is too late for that," said Licorice, with a short, contemptuous laugh. "Thou shouldst have said that a year ago, and have kept the child at home." "We had better marry her at once," suggested Abraham, still in a voice of deep pain. "`There are no birds in last year's nest,' old man," was the response. "Marry her or let it alone, the child's heart is gone from us. She has left behind her in yonder Castle those for whom she cares more than for us, and, I should not wonder also, a faith dearer to her than ours. It will be Anegay over again. Ah, well! Like to like! What else could we expect?" "Can she hear us, Licorice?" "Not she! She was fast asleep an hour ago." "Wife, if it be so, have we not deserved it?" "Abraham, don't be a fool!" cried Licorice, so very snappishly that it sounded as if her conscience might have responded a little to the accusation. "I cannot but think thou didst evil, Licorice,--thou knowest how and when." "I understand thee, of course. It was the only thing to do." "I know thou saidst so," answered Abraham in an unconvinced tone. "Yet it went to my heart to hear the poor child's sorrowful moan." "Thy heart is stuffed with feathers." "I would rather it were so than with stones." "Thanks for the compliment!" "Nay, I said nothing about thee. But, Licorice, if it be as thou thinkest, do not let us repeat that mistake."