“That is an awkward thing!” said Leo in a low tone to the Rabbi.
“I must consult the Rabbins,” was the answer. “It may be we shall find a loophole, to release the foolish woman. Canst thou remember the exact words of thy vow?”
“What matter the exact words? The Holy One (blessed be He!) looketh on the heart, and He knew what I meant to promise.”
“Yet how didst thou speak?”
“I have told you. I said, ‘God do so to me and more also, if I bring not the child to you unhurt!’”
“Didst thou say ‘God’? or did the man say it, and thy word was only ‘He’?” asked the Rabbi eagerly, fancying that he saw a way of escape.
“What do I know which it was? I meant Him, and that is in His eyes as if I had said it.”
“Countess, if thou be contumacious, I cannot shelter thee,” said Leo sternly.
“My daughter,” answered the Rabbi, still suavely, though he was not far from anger, “I am endeavouring to find thee a way of escape.”
“I do not wish to escape. I sware, and I will do it. Oh, bid me depart!” she cried, almost fiercely, turning to Leo. “I cannot bear this endless badgering. Give me my raiment and my jewels, and bid me depart in peace!”