succeeded in bowing to Olympia and stammering out a few words.
"You must not go yet, Herr von Spinoza," she said; "you must first tell me the legend, and when I go to see the lilies of the south I can tell them something from their native land."
"The sailor's legends may be the truer, I therefore prefer to go," said Baruch with a glance at the stranger.
"Ah!" said he rising, "my old friend Casper Barläus was right, he had had much intercourse with Jews, and was at first prejudiced in their favor, thinking them all witty; but he often complained of one of their failings, their sensitiveness; the most innocent look, the most harmless jest, was mistaken for mockery. I can assure you, that it was not my object to offend you in the least, and Jufrow Olympia can bear witness to my most unchristian partiality for the Jews."
"Yes," she said, "and it was all my fault for not introducing you; Herr von Spinoza you know now; and this is Herr Oldenburg, a member off the Bremen Embassy. Now pray tell me the legend, or else I shall think myself the cause of a misunderstanding that I should greatly regret." Baruch tried to protest.
"I will give him a lesson," said Oldenburg. "Remember always that Jufrow Olympia prays daily 'May my will be done in Heaven as on