Herr von Wroblewski knew all that. For the first three months he was kept in continual suspense between fear and hope--fear of the dead, and of the pale, gloomy youth who glanced so contemptuously at him whenever they passed each other that he clenched his fists without daring to raise them--and hope in the politeness of the Lemberg officials. There came a time when he was again able to enjoy the monthly checks brought him by the count's bailiff. The larger proportion he kept, the balance he sent to Russia, to the address of "Herr Antonius Brodski, in Mohilev." Inside the cover was written: "Here, Herr Tondka, is the money the count has sent for you. I hope you are satisfied; but if you are not, it will do you no good. We are not afraid of you." All the notes were in the same strain, some more, some less rude, according to the amount enclosed. As to the other matter, he could rejoice. "The stupid Jews laughed before their time." But when news of the impending investigation reached him, he gave up hope. It was fully determined upon, and there was no use in fighting. He had known for twenty years the way in which these investigations ended. His office was lost, and he must make an effort to escape punishment. With the air of a man of injured honor, he stepped up to the judge and handed in his resignation. "The investigation will establish my innocence, but I will not remain after these insulting suspicions. I owe this to my dignity, the dignity of my position and of my colleagues, who have acted with the same zeal. I can affirm this with confidence, for I know their manner of conducting business," and he named a number of officials, each of whom had a worse reputation than the other. The judge listened. A tremendous scandal was threatened. He commenced the inquiry, but reported this at Lemberg. The government reflected, the scamp was out of harm's way, and it mattered little to the state whether he got a pension or some years' imprisonment; besides, the cost would be the same, for he would be certain to drag a number of companions down with him, and his patron was still alive. So the investigation was stopped after two months, and Herr von Wroblewski was pensioned off. The result was unsatisfactory to all parties, but chiefly to Raphael. Though displaced from office, the magistrate had escaped his well-earned punishment, "because he sinned mostly against Jews," thought Raphael, and the reflection made him more bitter than ever.