"Ah, Samuel, I shudder to think that in those days every wickedness was possible. They might even have put your father to the torture."
"Thanks be to God, all that is out of the question to-day. And still, anticipating ill chances and exactions, we have always stowed our treasure in safe places and safe hands. Should the mansion be ransacked from cellar to eaves, the wealth of which we are the keepers would escape the search—"
Pricking his ear, Samuel checked his speech and listened intently a moment in the direction of the street gate. Then he said aloud to himself:
"Who is knocking there? It is not one of our men."
"The hour is unearthly," answered Bathsheba, uneasily. "It is past midnight. This lonely street has long since been deserted. May it not be our lookout come to warn us of the approach of some peril?"
"No, our lookout would have given the established signal," answered the Jew. "I'll go see what it may be."
And taking the lamp, he passed out of the chamber.
CHAPTER II.
REVOLUTIONARY EFFERVESCENCE.
Lamp in hand, Samuel approached the wicket gate. The light he carried revealed to him standing outside a lackey in a livery of orange and green, trimmed with silver lace. The fellow, swaying unsteadily on his feet, and with the air of one half-seas over with drink, knocked again, violently.
"Ho, friend!" cried Samuel. "Don't knock so hard! Perhaps you mistake the house."