So the old servant found him. She brought the letters that had accumulated during his absence, and asked if he wanted his supper. He declined it, and tried to read the letters. It was impossible. Only one interested him. It was from Bergheimer's old pupil, Berthold Wertheimer, in Breslau, who informed him, in well-measured sentences, that he was passing through Galicia on business, and would give himself the pleasure of calling upon him. "That is done for, too," sighed the old man, painfully. "I shall consider myself happy if the poor child is cured in a year or two." Brooding over these troubles, he failed to hear a knock at the door, and only looked up when the visitor stood before him. It was Herr von Wroblewski. With a sorrowful air, he reached out his hand. "Pani Nathaniel," he said, softly, "I have heard you are in trouble and sorrow. The faithful friend should not be missing." The old man's face worked, but he controlled himself. He did not accept the proffered hand, but his voice was quiet as he asked, "And what has the faithful friend to tell me?" "_Mon Dieu!_ how you look at me! as if I were to blame. You do me injustice, 'pon my honor! Not one compromising word passed between the young people in my house, and I was dumb with surprise when I heard of the affair." "Indeed!" said the Jew, still coldly and deliberately. "But you surely do not expect me to believe this? Why this comedy? What is it you wish from me?" "Pani Nathaniel, you hurt me! It was only our old friendship, 'pon my honor! Then, too, I am compromised, in a way. You may treat me as you like, but I will do my duty. As a man of honor and as your friend, I will go to-morrow, or to-day, if you wish, and will say to the count: 'You were introduced to this young girl in my house, and I have the right to remind you that you are about to commit an outrage against an honorable family. I beg of you to discontinue the attempt.' Yes, I will do it." "Very well, do what you cannot avoid doing." "But, are you not willing? It is the only way to influence the count. And you could not find a better go-between." "Certainly not more honest. But I require no go-between in this affair. I have forbidden my daughter ever to speak, even one syllable, to the count, you, or your ladies. As she is a good child and a Jewess, brought up to obey her father, she will do as I say, though it may be hard for her." Herr von Wroblewski smiled. "But is not that as the old proverb says, 'emptying out the spoons with the slops'? Perhaps the count will say, 'I am serious in this, and wish to marry the girl.' It is possible." "That would not make the least difference. I should say 'no,' and Judith knows it. Not because I have any feeling against Christians, but because it would be certain misery for both." He arose. "That is surely not your final word? You will not refuse the hand of an old friend?"