He trembled, clenching his hands to drive back the mad wave of earthly emotion that flooded him, as the tide swells to the moon, under the fervor of her eyes.
"I should kill my love all the same," he said hoarsely. "The Jews are hard. They will not make fine distinctions. They know none but Jews and Christians."
"Methinks I see my father galloping up the street," said Helena, turning to the oriel window. "That should be his feather and his brown Turkey horse. But the sun dazzles my eyes! I will leave thee."
She passed to the door without looking at him. Then turning suddenly so that his own eyes were dazzled, she said—
"My heart is with thee whatsoever thou choosest. Only bethink thee well, ere thou donnest cowl and gown, that unlovely costume which, to speak after thine own pattern, symbolizes all that is unlovely. Addio!"
He followed her and took her hand, and, bending down, kissed it reverently. She did not withdraw it.
"Hast thou the strength for the serge and the cord, Giuseppe mio?" she asked softly.
He drew himself up, holding her hand in his.
"Yes," he said. "Thou shalt inspire me, Helena. The thought of thy radiant purity shall keep me pure and unfaltering."
A fathomless expression crossed Helena's face. She drew away her hand.