"I hope they did not insult you, Anton?"
"We Jews are used as yet to insolence from Christians, and do not mind it."
"They shall never more be anything to me, if they have insulted you."
"It is nothing, Nina. We bear those things, and think that such of you Christians as use that liberty of a vulgar tongue, which is still possible towards a Jew in Prague, are simply poor in heart and ignorant."
"They are poor in heart and ignorant."
"I first went to your uncle"s office in the Ross Markt, where I saw him and your aunt and Ziska. And afterwards Ziska came to me, at our own house. He was tame enough then."
"To your own house?"
"Yes; to the Jews" quarter. Was it not a condescension? He came into our synagogue and ferreted me out. You may be sure that he had something very special to say when he did that. But he looked as though he thought that his life were in danger among us."
"But, Anton, what had he to say?"
"I will tell you. He wanted to buy me off."
"Buy you off!"
"Yes; to bribe me to give you up. Aunt Sophie does not relish the idea of having a Jew for her nephew."
"Aunt Sophie!--but I will never call her Aunt Sophie again. Do you mean that they offered you money?"
"They offered me property, my dear, which is the same. But they did it economically, for they only offered me my own. They were kind enough to suggest that if I would merely break my word to you, they would tell me how I could get the t.i.tle-deeds of the houses, and thus have the power of turning your father out into the street."
"You have the power. He would go at once if you bade him."
"I do not wish him to go. As I have told you often, he is welcome to the use of the house. He shall have it for his life, as far as I am concerned. But I should like to have what is my own."
"And what did you say?" Nina, as she asked the question, was very careful not to tighten her hold upon his arm by the weight of a single ounce.
"What did I say? I said that I had many things that I valued greatly, but that I had one thing that I valued more than gold or houses--more even than my right."
"And what is that?" said Nina, stopping suddenly, so that she might hear clearly every syllable of the words which were to come. "What is that?" She did not even yet add an ounce to the pressure; but her fingers were ready.
"A poor thing," said Anton; "just the heart of a Christian girl."
Then the hand was tightened, or rather the two hands, for they were closed together upon his arm; and his other arm was wound round her waist; and then, in the gloom of the dark colonnade, he pressed her to his bosom, and kissed her lips and her forehead, and then her lips again. "No," he said, "they have not bribed high enough yet to get from me my treasure--my treasure."
"Dearest, am I your treasure?"
"Are you not? What else have I that I make equal to you?" Nina was supremely happy--triumphant in her happiness. She cared nothing for her aunt, nothing for Lotta Luxa and her threats; and very little at the present moment even for St Nicholas or St John of the Bridge. To be told by her lover that she was his own treasure, was sufficient to banish for the time all her miseries and all her fears.
"You are my treasure. I want you to remember that, and to believe it,"
said the Jew.
"I will believe it," said Nina, trembling with anxious eagerness. Could it be possible that she would ever forget it?
"And now I will ask my questions. Where are those t.i.tle-deeds?"
"Where are they?" said she, repeating his question.
"Yes; where are they?"
"Why do you ask me? And why do you look like that?"
"I want you to tell me where they are, to the best of your knowledge."
"Uncle Karil has them--or else Ziska."
"You are sure of that?"
"How can I be sure? I am not sure at all. But Ziska said something which made me feel sure of it, as I told you before. And I have supposed always that they must be in the Ross Markt. Where else can they be?"
"Your aunt says that you have got them."
"That I have got them?"
"Yes, you. That is what she intends me to understand." The Jew had stopped at one of the corners, close under the little lamp, and looked intently into Nina"s face as he spoke to her.
"And you believe her?" said Nina.
But he went on without noticing her question. "She intends me to believe that you have got them, and are keeping them from me fraudulently! cheating me, in point of fact--that you are cheating me, so that you may have some hold over the property for your own purposes.
That is what your aunt wishes me to believe. She is a wise woman, is she not? and very clever. In one breath she tries to bribe me to give you up, and in the next she wants to convince me that you are not worth keeping."
"But, Anton--"
"Nay, Nina, I will not put you to the trouble of protestation. Look at that star. I should as soon suspect the light which G.o.d has placed in the heaven of misleading me, as I should suspect you."
"Oh, Anton, dear Anton, I do so love you for saying that! Would it be possible that I should keep anything from you?"
"I think you would keep nothing from me. Were you to do so, you could not be my own love any longer. A man"s wife must be true to him in everything, or she is not his wife. I could endure not only no fraud from you, but neither could I endure falsehood."
"I have never been false to you. With G.o.d"s help I never will be false to you."
"He has given you His help. He has made you true-hearted, and I do not doubt you. Now answer me another question. Is it possible that your father should have the paper?"
Nina paused a moment, and then she replied with eagerness, "Quite impossible. I am sure that he knows nothing of it more than you know."
When she had so spoken they walked in silence for a few yards, but Anton did not at once reply to her. "You do not think that father is keeping anything from you, do you," said Nina.
"I do not know," said the Jew. "I am not sure."
"You may be sure. You may be quite sure. Father is at least honest."
"I have always thought so."
"And do you not think so still?"