"Are you not? What else have I that I make equal to you?" Nina was supremely happy--triumphant in her happiness. She cared nothing for her aunt, nothing for Lotta Luxa and her threats; and very little at the present moment even for St Nicholas or St John of the Bridge. To be told by her lover that she was his own treasure, was sufficient to banish for the time all her miseries and all her fears. "You are my treasure. I want you to remember that, and to believe it," said the Jew. "I will believe it," said Nina, trembling with anxious eagerness. Could it be possible that she would ever forget it? "And now I will ask my questions. Where are those title-deeds?" "Where are they?" said she, repeating his question. "Yes; where are they?" "Why do you ask me? And why do you look like that?" "I want you to tell me where they are, to the best of your knowledge." "Uncle Karil has them--or else Ziska." "You are sure of that?" "How can I be sure? I am not sure at all. But Ziska said something which made me feel sure of it, as I told you before. And I have supposed always that they must be in the Ross Markt. Where else can they be?" "Your aunt says that you have got them." "That I have got them?" "Yes, you. That is what she intends me to understand." The Jew had stopped at one of the corners, close under the little lamp, and looked intently into Nina's face as he spoke to her. "And you believe her?" said Nina. But he went on without noticing her question. "She intends me to believe that you have got them, and are keeping them from me fraudulently! cheating me, in point of fact--that you are cheating me, so that you may have some hold over the property for your own purposes. That is what your aunt wishes me to believe. She is a wise woman, is she not? and very clever. In one breath she tries to bribe me to give you up, and in the next she wants to convince me that you are not worth keeping." "But, Anton--" "Nay, Nina, I will not put you to the trouble of protestation. Look at that star. I should as soon suspect the light which God has placed in the heaven of misleading me, as I should suspect you." "Oh, Anton, dear Anton, I do so love you for saying that! Would it be possible that I should keep anything from you?" "I think you would keep nothing from me. Were you to do so, you could not be my own love any longer. A man's wife must be true to him in everything, or she is not his wife. I could endure not only no fraud from you, but neither could I endure falsehood." "I have never been false to you. With God's help I never will be false to you." "He has given you His help. He has made you true-hearted, and I do not doubt you. Now answer me another question. Is it possible that your father should have the paper?"