"As God wills," he said, when the doctor had concluded. "I have at least the comfort of knowing I have done what I could. If she bring an accusation against me, you will not refuse to testify to my desire to grant all she could demand." "No, but unwillingly," said the old gentleman, brusquely. This question of the count's annoyed him, but only for a moment, for he knew it was quite in keeping with a weak character, which was impelled by fear as well as by penitence; and then, to feel he had done his whole duty, he told the count her last words. They had a startling effect. He leaped from his seat, with flaming cheeks, and, holding out his hands in protestation, he exclaimed: "That cannot be. Better the prison. How can she imagine such a thing?" "She does not. She did not even tell me what it was, and I should prefer not to know." "He is not so bad, after all," thought the doctor, as he went down-stairs. "He is in a bad position, and is pitiably weak. I'll wager he comes to me asking me to make another attempt before three days are over." In this he was mistaken, for Agenor came to him the same evening. "Do have a talk with Raphael. He is the only one to influence her, and it cannot be a matter of indifference to him whether his sister lives here as my wife or as she is at present." The doctor refused point-blank. "It would be useless. To him she is dead." And in this he was firm, despite prayers and entreaties. Yet the good old man did go to Raphael the next day. What the count could not effect, Miriam Gold did. Shortly after Agenor's visit, she went in cautiously with a thousand apologies for disturbing him at such an hour. "But I had to come. My heart cries out, 'Tell Dr. Reiser,' and so I am here." "Say what you wish, Miriam. But I cannot make any further effort for reconciliation between Judith and the count." "Who speaks of that? Praise to the Father Everlasting that it has failed! While you were with her, I prayed to God so to confuse your words that they might not persuade her to become a renegade. I know God better than most people about here. My heart says he was merciful to Leah, and he will also be merciful to Judith." Her voice sank to a whisper. "Doctor, her soul is in a bad way! It is like a poor little bird that is longing to fly away, but is held back by a few slender threads. She must care for her child, justify herself in the sight of the people, and fulfil God's will. As long as she has to undergo disgrace and persecution she will stay, because she takes that as a punishment from God. But if she married the count, she would be justified, her child would be safe, and persecution cease. Then the threads would be severed, and the poor little bird would fly away." "I fear that in any case. Has she ever hinted at it to you?"