the vulture, swooping down upon the guileless dove.
Is there no eye to watch thee? Doth not thine own kin see thy foul deeds?
Desist!
'T is too late. . . .
Open is the window, no grating noise has accompanied the unbolting of the shutter. . . . The evil spirits have taken care that the faintest sound shall die away . . . even the rough iron obeys their voices . . . it is they who have bidden: "Be silent; betray him not; he is one of us."
Even the key in the door of the old bureau is turned lightly and without noise. Groping fingers are searching for a bulky volume. Have they found it? Is there none there to cry in a voice of thunder: "Cursed be the father who stretches forth his desecrating hand towards the things that are his children's"? . . .
They have found it, the greedy fingers! and now, but a spring through the open window, and out into the night. . . .
At that moment a sudden ray of light shines through a crack in the door of the room. . . . Swiftly the door opens, a girlish figure appears on the threshold, a lighted lamp in her hand. . . .
"Gudule!" he shrieks, horror-stricken, and falls senseless at her feet.
Ascher was saved. The terrible blow which
