He rang the bell, and desired a servant to bring in the picture which he had purchased at the auction, and to desire Jacob to come with it. As soon as it was brought in, I retired to the farther end of the room. In Mowbray’s countenance there was a strange mixture of contempt and curiosity. Mr. Montenero kindly said to me, “I shall not insist, Mr. Harrington, on your looking at it; I know it is not to your taste.” I immediately approached, resolved to stand the sight, that I might not be suspected of affectation. Berenice had not yet seen the painting: she shrunk back the moment she beheld it, exclaiming, “Oh, father! Why purchase such a horrible picture?” “To destroy it,” said Mr. Montenero. And deliberately he took the picture out of its frame and cut it to pieces, repeating, “To destroy it, my dear, as I would, were it in my power, every record of cruelty and intolerance. So perish all that can keep alive feelings of hatred and vengeance between Jews and Christians!” “Amen,” said the good old general, and all present joined in that _amen_. I heard it pronounced by Miss Montenero in a very low voice, but distinctly and fervently. While I stood with my eyes fixed on Berenice, and while Mowbray loudly applauded her father’s liberality, Mr. Montenero turned to Jacob and said, “I sent for my friend Jacob to be present at the burning of this picture, because it was he who put it in my power to prevent this horrid representation from being seen and sold in every print-shop in London. Jacob, who goes every where, and _sees_ wherever he goes, observed this picture at a broker’s shop, and found that two persons had been in treaty for it. One of them had the appearance of an amateur, the other was an artist, an engraver. The engraver was, I suppose, the person who bid against Colonel Topham and me; who the other gentleman was, and why he bought in to sell it again at that auction, perhaps Jacob knows, but I have never inquired.” Then, with Jacob’s assistance, Mr. Montenero burned every shred of this abominable picture, to my inexpressible satisfaction. During this _auto-da-fè_, Jacob cast a glance at Mowbray, the meaning of which I could not at first comprehend; but I supposed that he was thinking of the fire, at which all he had in the world had been consumed at Gibraltar. I saw, or thought I saw, that Jacob checked the feeling this recollection excited. He turned to me, and in a low voice told me, that Mr. Montenero had been so kind as to obtain for him a lucrative and creditable situation in the house of Manessa, the jeweller; and the next day he was to go to Mr. Manessa’s, and to commence business. “So, Mr. Harrington, you see that after all my misfortunes, I am now established in a manner far above what could have been expected for poor Jacob--far above his most sanguine hopes. Thanks to my good friends.” “And to your good self,” said I.