But the old man must have understood. He opens the heavy outer door, steps out, and shuts it behind him. The dog has apparently slipped out at the same time as his master, for the housekeeper can hear the stifled sound of his bark. Then Moses's voice becomes audible; he speaks very loudly and passionately. What he says sounds at first like scolding, and then like a solemn curse or conjuration. But the old woman can not hear the words.... No mortal ear hears the words that Moses Freudenthal addresses to the person who had knocked at his door that dismal night. After a minute of suspense, the housekeeper hears the outer door creak. Moses is coming back. He returns alone. The dog has remained outside. There is a moment's silence; and then the housekeeper hears a heavy fall. She seizes the candle--what does she care in her terror about the old pious custom?--and hastens to the door. There lies Moses Freudenthal, motionless and pale as death. She raises his head; he breathes stertorously. On perceiving this, the old woman utters a loud shriek. The man-servant and shopman, wakened by her cry, hasten to the spot. They lifted their master, and, carrying him to his room, put him to bed. Then one of them goes for the doctor of the district, who lives close by on the first floor. He bleeds the sick man, but shakes his head as he does so. The old man has had a stroke. The housekeeper weeps, the men stand about the room awkwardly, not knowing whether to go or stay, and the doctor attends to his patient. Thus the hours pass slowly, and the morning comes. No one remembers the stranger who had knocked at the door in the night. Early in the morning a loud knocking is heard at the door. The night-watchman stands without, accompanied by several people who have come in early to the market. They have found a poorly-dressed, half-starved-looking young woman lying dead at the door. Black Britan is lying beside the corpse, whining, and licking its hands. When any one tries to approach, he growls and shows his teeth. The doctor goes on and bends over the dead woman. He lays his hand on her heart; it has ceased to beat. He then looks at the pale, worn face, and recognizes it at once. He rises sadly, and orders the corpse to be taken to the dead-house. He then returns to the sick man, who still lies senseless. Next day they bury Esther Freudenthal. No one knows what her religion had been--whether she had remained a Jewess, or had become a Christian. Not even her uncle Schlome, who cowers down by her bier in a stupor of grief. So they bury her where suicides are laid; and yet she had died of starvation.