"Nonsense! 'Merit' means wealth, and I assure you that titles cost enormous sums. I must pay for my patent ten thousand florins, and if I should wish to be a count, I must pay twenty thousand. But enough of all this. Suffice it that I shall prove to the nobles that my money is as good as their genealogical trees, and now we shall have crowds of noble adorers at the Baroness Rachel's feet. But be she baroness or countess, she is forever a Jewess, and that parts her eternally from any but a wooer of her own faith. Does it not, my Rachel, my loyal Israelitish baroness?"
"Do you doubt me, my father?" asked Rachel in a faltering voice, while she averted her face.
"No, my child, for if I did, I would curse you on the spot."
"Dear, dear father, do not speak such fearful words!" cried Rachel, trembling with fright.
"You are right, child. I am childish to indulge the supposition of my Hebrew maiden's treachery. She is pure before the Lord, loyal and true to the faith of her fathers. But we must be armed against temptation, and before we part for the day, we must both swear eternal fidelity to our creed. These wily Christians may come with flattery and smiles, and some one of them might steal my Rachel's heart. I swear, therefore, by all that is sacred on earth or in heaven, never to abandon the Jewish faith, and never to enter a Christian church. So help me God!"
Rachel gazed upon her father with blanched cheeks and distended eyes; her muscles stiffened with horror, until she seemed to be turning to stone.
"Did you hear my oath, Rachel?" said he.
She parted her lips, and they faltered an inaudible "Yes."
"Then," said he, gently, "repeat the oath, for we both must take it."
She raised her head with a quick, convulsive motion, and stammered,
"What—what is it, father?"