"I never leave you, for my soul is ever with you. No leave-takings, Gabriel; they make us weak, and sternly I must go to meet stern fate. Give me your hand. Farewell! Above lives a God for all men. He will protect me." "Rebecca, only give me one parting kiss!" "I shall kiss you when atonement has been made--nor until then shall I kiss our child again! Know this, Gabriel, that my love for you is eternal, it will abide even unto the end of the world! Now, let us part. Hark! the child cries. He calls for his father. Go to him, Gabriel, and tell our child that his mother loves you both more than her own life! Go!" He tried once more to seize her hand and embrace her. She waved him back, and with an imperious movement pointed to the wagon. "Remember your oath, Gabriel; you must do what I require of you," she said firmly. "But just tell me one thing, Rebecca," implored he humbly. "When shall we meet again?" "In four or five days, Gabriel. Stay quietly at Brandenburg, and wait for me there eight days. If by that time I have not come to you at Brandenburg, consider it as a sign that I have chosen some other route, to escape the anger and pursuit of Count Schwarzenberg, and that I have forborne to communicate with you lest I should be betrayed. Then travel with the child to Venice, making all possible speed. I shall join you on the way; but if I can not, then we shall meet again in safety at my father's house in Venice." "Rebecca, it is impossible; I can not--" "Hush!" interrupted she; "the child cries still, and David Cohen, too, is now awake." She quickly stepped toward the vehicle and nodded to the little coachman, who was sleepily rubbing his eyes. "Here we are, David," she said. "Now prove yourself a brave boy and do honor to your father's spirit. Drive boldly, but take care not to meet with accidents, and make for Brandenburg without delay." "I promised dad, God bless him, that I would not know rest or repose, hunger or sleep, until we reached Brandenburg!" cried the boy, cracking his whip. "Get in, I will drive you to Brandenburg." "Get in, Gabriel," said Rebecca to Nietzel, who stood at the wagon door, looking at her with wistful, melancholy air. She shook her head as a negative answer to the dumb questioning of his eyes, and only repeated, "Get in, Gabriel!" He jumped into the wagon, but, as he did so, leaned forward and stretched out his hands to her. "Forward, David, forward!" commanded Rebecca. David whipped up his horses, and set off at full gallop. "Be quick, David, for I must begone!" David Cohen gave the little horses a sharp blow across their heads, causing them to bound forward in wild impatience. Rebecca gazed after them, breathless, with staring eyes. When the vehicle had disappeared from sight she pressed both hands before her eyes, and a sob and a groan escaped her breast. Soon, however, she resumed her self-control.