"'I am only saying what is true,' she answered, with trembling lips. 'And then--can I buy my own happiness at the expense of my parents' sorrow?--as our people would regard it--shame? Were I to do so they would die of grief. Often in my misery I felt that I must entreat you to go away--at once. To forget me--would not bring happiness, but safety.' "'And do you really think that I could forget you?' I asked, gravely. 'Could you forget me?' "'No,' she said, 'I could not. But tell me--can you see a way out of all this misery?' "'Yes,' I answered, with determination, for the spirit of defiance was roused within me, and I felt more than ever convinced of the truth of the proverb, 'Where there's a will there's a way.' 'I will go and speak to your father, and prove to him how foolish the prejudice he feels toward me really is. I will entreat him not to make his only child unhappy, and ask him to give you to me. If he will not consent, I will win you by my own labor; but when I have done that, you must leave your parents for your husband. We should have to wait and work for two years. But you will not tire any more than I shall. And then you will be my dear wife, and will be able to look back at your cares and anxieties of to-day with a smile. I swear that you shall be my wife--or else, I shall never marry.' "'I will be true to you,' she said, in a low voice, but so earnestly that it almost seemed like a sacred oath. "So we parted...." Adolf was silent for a time. We stared out into the dusk without speaking, and gazed at the shadowy outlines of the vast plain of Western Galicia. It was not until the silence had lasted a long time that I asked, "Did you go to Hirsch Welt?" "Yes," he answered. "And were you successful?" "He turned me out of the house," returned Adolf calmly; "but what of that? Rachel shall be my wife. 'Where there's a will, there's a way!...'" * * * * * Fifteen months passed away after our conversation in the railway-carriage without any event worthy of record taking place. When we returned to Vienna we took up our abode in different parts of the town, and in consequence met but seldom. I only knew that Adolf was working very hard, and that he had good accounts of Rachel. Early one morning in December, before the sun was well up, I heard a violent knocking at my door, and ere I could call out "Come in," the door opened, and my friend entered hurriedly, his face deadly pale and anxious-looking. "What! it's you, Adolf!" I exclaimed. "But what's the matter?... Is anything wrong?" He passed his hand across his forehead, and pushed back his hair to which a few snow-flakes were sticking. "I don't know what has happened," he said, "that is the reason I am so uneasy.... Don't question me, but get up and come with me...."