“Have you any one with you?” cried Ascher springing up. His sharp ears had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized with violent trembling. “Father, it’s only dear Viola,” said Ephraim. A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed to his temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm what a terrible change had come over his father’s features during the last few seconds: his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost their lustre, he seemed to have aged ten years. The door opened, and Viola entered. “Viola!” cried Ephraim, “here is our—” “Welcome!” said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few steps nearer. She extended her hand towards him, but her eyes were cast down. She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned away. “Gudule!” cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost senseless in his chair. Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the effect which the girl’s sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly unhinged mind. “Viola!” Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, “why don’t you come here?” “I CAN’T, Ephraim, I CAN’T…” she moaned, as, with halting steps, she walked towards the door. “Come, speak to him, do,” Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his. “Let me go!” she cried, trying to release herself … “I am thinking of mother!” Suddenly Ascher rose. “Where’s my stick?” he cried. “I want the stick which I brought with me…Where is it? I must go.” “Father, you won’t…” cried Ephraim. Then Viola turned round. “Father,” she said, with twitching lips… “you’ll want something to eat before you go.” “Yes, yes, let me have something to eat,” he shouted, as he brought his fist down upon the table. “Bring me wine…and let it be good …I am thirsty enough to drink the river dry. …Wine, and beer, and anything else you can find, bring all here, and then, when I’ve had my fill, I’ll go.” “Go, Viola,” Ephraim whispered in his sister’s ear, “and bring him all he asks for.” When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat down again leaning his arms upon the table.