But Agenor did refuse, and Wroblewski had to resort to his pen. He described in vivid colors the reports that had been afloat in aristocratic circles regarding the sham-marriage, and were now well known for miles around. No one doubted them, and it was a mystery why Groze had not taken the case up. How would it be if Judith made a declaration? Even then there would be no danger for him. It was his friendship for the count which induced his anxiety. Even this touching letter was left unanswered; and when Wroblewski inquired of the lawyer regarding it, the latter replied that the count had nothing to fear from the mother of his child, and that if she made an affidavit, the consequences would be disagreeable to Herr von Wroblewski principally, since the testimony of Ignatius Tondka would prove that it was he who bore the lion's share of the responsibility in this dirty matter. Tondka had already placed himself at the lawyer's disposal for that purpose. It was an evil hour for the ex-magistrate when he received this information, for as he had not had any letters from Mohilev lately, he had sent no money, but used the funds for himself. Now, suddenly, his guilty confederate appears again on the scene. "Bah!" he thought, "if the count is not afraid, I need not be. For he has his reputation to lose, and I nothing," Nevertheless, he was not quite at his ease. Perhaps he overestimated the count's position. Perhaps Baranowski, too, had little to lose in the estimation of people. Judith's return had accentuated the reports circulated about him; and whether his old friends disapproved of so much fuss on account of a Jewess, or whether they really disapproved of his actions, they all agreed in condemning him. The contempt with which they regarded him had caused him much discomfort during the first weeks of his return, but it was trifling now in comparison with this new affliction which burdened his soul--his repentance and his terror of the law. All the good and evil in his nature seemed to have united to sharpen his agony. His love for his victim, his longing to make expiation for his crime, his desire to regain his old self-respect, and again that false idea of honor that made him think his sin a lesser evil than marriage with a Jewess. "She must not die!" he cried, in mad fear, to the old doctor, whom he visited almost daily, and in the same breath, with vehement earnestness, "she must not accuse me!" It did not seem clear which evil he dreaded most. Dr. Reiser, who at first was very hard on him, grew at last to pity the tortured man, and at his request promised to make an attempt to act as mediator. But careful though he was, at the first intimation the pale cheeks of the convalescent flushed, and she raised her hand in protest. "Do not speak of him to me, please. I am not strong enough to bear it. When I regain my strength I will remember him." "So as to ruin him?"