"I will help him if I can. Will you and uncle give up those papers which you have kept since father left them with uncle Karil, just that they might be safe?"
This question Ziska would not answer at once. The matter was one on which he wished to negotiate, and he was driven to the necessity of considering what might be the best line for his diplomacy. "I am sure, Ziska," continued Nina, "you will understand why I ask this. Father is too weak to make the demand, and uncle would listen to nothing that Anton Trendellsohn would say to him."
"They say that you have betrothed yourself to this Jew, Nina."
"It is true. But that has nothing to do with it."
"He is very anxious to have the deeds?"
"Of course he is anxious. Father is old and poorly; and what would he do if father were to die?"
"Nina, he shall have them — if he will give you up."
Nina turned away from her cousin and looked out from the window into the little court. Ziska could not see her face; but had he done so he would not have been able to read the smile of triumph with which for a moment or two it became brilliant. No; Anton would make no such bargain as that! Anton loved her better than any title-deeds. Had he not told her that she was his sun — the sun that gave to him light and heat? "If they are his own, why should he be asked to make any such bargain?" said Nina.
"Nina," said Ziska, throwing all his passion into his voice, as he best knew how, "it cannot be that you should love this man."
"Why not love him?"