"I watched by her bedside till break of day. She was so still, I thought she had gone to sleep, and I gave way to my fatigue. It was the shouting of the servants in the court-yard that woke me. Fedko had observed her, and, following, staved off this calamity." "Pray God forever!" ejaculated the magistrate, solemnly. "What does the doctor think?" The count repeated the doctor's opinion. "It is frightful!" he groaned, clasping his hands. "Hm! then she does not know her father is dead?" "Dead!" repeated Agenor, starting up. The magistrate told the particulars indifferently. "But we need not take that into account just now, for she must not hear of it. You must take her away to Paris or Italy, though I do not suppose it will avail much. Consumptive fever! suicide! why, it gives one cold shivers down the back. That is, if we credit the doctor. But need we? For, I can tell you, he is a sentimentalist--a philanthropist"--here his face wore a contemptuous sneer--"and perhaps a friend of the Jews." "I believe him; and if you had seen the poor thing you would not have doubted, either." "That's bad. But now we must be sensible. What you said yesterday, excuse me, was sheer nonsense. That is the way a counter-jumper would talk if he could not marry a seamstress. But a Baranowski has obligations. What good would it do you, or the girl, or the world in general, if you committed suicide together? There are two courses open to you. Either let things remain as they are--" "No, no!" cried the count. "You need not shout! I am not a barbarian myself. I only meant for you to go South with a physician who would watch her carefully. But, of course, if you believe in a catastrophe notwithstanding, we will not speak of it again." "No, not of that." "Well, there is nothing else for us to talk about, for you can find the way to the nearest priest without my help." The count stood still, with averted face. "You know of no other way?" "No. I am sorry it must be so, but here are my heartiest congratu--" He stopped, frightened at the gloom and pallor which overspread the count's face. "Of course," he murmured, "how could there be an alternative? Pardon me, I only asked because, when one is in a fix like this--I will do it. Please arrange with the nearest priest. It can take place to-morrow." Here Von Wroblewski looked at him sharply. A shudder passed through him. "After the wedding you will kill yourself?" The count was silent. "He will do it," thought the magistrate, "certainly, or very probably. That cannot be allowed. Since the Jews have become insubordinate, he is my only reliance, and, besides, it is my duty to save him." "Hm! my dear count, I am no friend of the Jews, but I do not consider the disgrace such that you cannot survive it."