"He is ill, I think..." said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.

"What, you call THAT illness, Ephraim?" Viola cried; "if that's illness, then a wild beast is ill too."

"Viola, for Heaven's sake, be quiet: he's our own father after all!"

"Ephraim!" said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she again threw herself into her brother's arms... "just think if mother had lived to see this!"

"Don't, don't, Viola, my sweet!" Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing convulsively.

"Ephraim!" the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair, "I don't believe in the Sechus! When we live to see all this, and our hearts do not break, we lose faith in everything...Ephraim, what is to become of us?"

"Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don't know what you are saying," replied Ephraim, "I believe in it, because mother herself told us...you must believe in it too."

But Viola again shook her head. "I don't believe in it any longer," she moaned, "I can't."

Noiselessly, Ephraim walked toward the door of the front room; he placed his ear against the keyhole, and listened. Within all was silent. A fresh terror seized him. Why was no sound to be heard?...He opened the door cautiously lest it should creak. There sat his father asleep in the arm-chair, his head bent on his bosom, his arms hanging limp by his side.

"Hush, Viola," he whispered, closing the door as cautiously as he had opened it, "he is asleep. ...I think it will do him good. Be careful that you make no noise."

Viola had seated herself upon a block of wood outside the kitchen door, and was sobbing silently. In the meantime, Ephraim, unable to find a word of solace for his sister, went and stood at the street door, so that no unbidden guest should come to disturb his father's slumbers. It was mid-day; from the church hard by streamed the peasants and their wives in their Sunday attire, and many bestowed a friendly smile upon the well-known youth. But he could only nod his head in return, his heart was sore oppressed, and a smile at such a moment seemed to him nothing short of sin. He went back into the house, and listened at the door of the room. Silence still reigned unbroken, and with noiseless steps he again walked away.

"He is still sleeping," he whispered to his sister. "Just think what would have happened if we had still had that bird...He wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink."

"Ephraim, why do you remind me of it?" cried Viola with a fresh outburst of tears. "Where is the little bird now, I wonder?..."

Ephraim sat down beside his sister, and took her hand in his. Thus they remained seated for some time, unable to find a word of comfort for each other.

At length movements were heard. Ephraim sprang to his feet and once more approached the door to listen.

"He is awake!" he softly said to Viola, and slowly opening the door, he entered the room.

Ascher was walking up and down with heavy tread.

"Do you feel refreshed after your sleep, father?" Ephraim asked timidly.

Ascher stood still, and confronted his son. His face was still very flushed, but his eyes had lost their gla.s.sy stare; his glance was clear and steady.

"Ephraim, my son," he began, in a kindly, almost cheerful tone, "you've grown into a splendid business man, as good a business man as one can meet with between this and Vienna. I'm sure of it. But I must give you one bit of advice; it's worth a hundred pounds to one in your position.

Never leave a key in the lock of a bureau!"

Ephraim looked at his father as though stupefied. Was the man mad or delirious to talk in such a strain? At that moment, from the extreme end of the Ghetto, there sounded the three knocks, summoning the people to evening prayer. As in the morning, so again now the sound seemed to stun the vigorous man. His face blanched and a.s.sumed an expression of terror; he trembled from head to foot. Then again he cast a frightened glance in the direction of the window.

"Nothing but knocking, knocking!" he muttered. "They would like to knock the most hidden thoughts out of one's brains, if they only could. What makes them do it, I should like to know?...To the clanging of a bell you can, at all events, shut your ears, you need only place your hands to them...but with that hammer they bang at every confounded door, and drive one crazy. Who gives them the right to do it, I should like to know?" He stood still listening.

"Do you think he will be long before he reaches here?" he asked Ephraim, in a frightened voice.

"Who, father?"

"The watch."

"He has already knocked next door but one."

Another minute, and the three strokes sounded on the door of the house.

Ascher heaved a sigh of relief; he rubbed his hand across his forehead; it was wet with perspiration.

"Thank G.o.d!" he cried, as though addressing himself, "that's over, and won't come again till to-morrow."

"Ephraim, my son!" he cried, with a sudden outburst of cheerfulness, accompanying the words with a thundering bang upon the table, "Ephraim, my son, you shall soon see what sort of a father you have. Now, you're continually worrying your brains, walking your feet off, trying to get a skin, or praying some fool of a peasant to be good enough to sell you a bit of wool. Ephraim, my son, all that shall soon be changed, take my word for it. I'll make you rich, and as for Viola, I'll get her a husband--such a husband that all the girls in Bohemia will turn green and yellow with envy...Ascher's daughter shall have as rich a dowry as the daughter of a Rothschild... But there's one thing, and one thing only, that I need, and then all will happen as I promise, in one night."

"And what is that, father!" asked Ephraim, with a slight shudder.

"Luck, luck, Ephraim, my son!" he shouted. "What is a man without luck?

Put a man who has no luck in a chest full of gold; cover him with gold from head to foot; when he crawls out of it, and you search his pockets, you'll find the gold has turned to copper."

"And will you have luck, father?" asked Ephraim.

"Ephraim, my son!" said the old gambler, with a cunning smile, "I'll tell you something--There are persons whose whole powers are devoted to one object--how to win a fortune; in the same way as there are some who study to become doctors, and the like, so these study what we call luck...and from them I've learned it."

He checked himself in sudden alarm lest he might have said too much, and looked searchingly at his son. A pure soul shone through Ephraim's open countenance, and showed his father that his real meaning had not been grasped.

"Never mind," he shouted loudly, waving his arms in the air, "what is to come no man can stop. Give me something to drink, Ephraim."

"Father," the latter faltered, "don't you think it will harm you?"

"Don't be a fool, Ephraim!" cried Ascher, "you don't know my const.i.tution. Besides, didn't you say that to-day was a fast, when it is forbidden to eat anything? And have I asked you for any food? But as for drink, that's quite another thing! The birds of the air can't do without it, much less man!"

Ephraim saw that for that evening, at all events, it would not do to oppose his father. He walked into the kitchen where Viola was preparing supper, or rather breakfast, for after the fast this was the first meal of the day.

"Viola," he said, "make haste and fetch some fresh wine."

"For him?" cried Viola, pointing her finger almost threateningly in the direction of the sitting-room door.

"Don't, don't, Viola!" Ephraim implored.

"And you are fasting!" she said.

"Am I not also fasting for him?" said Ephraim.

With a full bottle in his hand Ephraim once more entered the room. He placed the wine upon the table, where the gla.s.ses from which Ascher had drunk in the morning were still standing.

"Where is Viola?" asked Ascher, who was again pacing the room with firm steps.

"She is busy cooking."

"Tell her she shall have a husband, and a dowry that will make half the girls in Bohemia turn green and yellow with envy."

Then he approached the table, and drank three br.i.m.m.i.n.g gla.s.ses, one after the other. "Now then," he said, as with his whole weight he dropped into the old arm-chair... "Now I'll have a good night's rest.

I need strength and sharp eyes, and they are things which only sleep can give. Ephraim, my son," he continued after awhile in thick, halting accents... "tell the watch--Simon is his name, I think--he can give six knocks instead of three upon the door, in the morning, he won't disturb me...and to Viola you can say I'll find her a husband, handsomer than her eyes have ever beheld, and tell her on her wedding-day she shall wear pearls round her neck like those of a queen--no, no, like those of Gudule, her mother." A few moments later he was sound asleep.