"Swear, as I have done, never to leave the faith of your fathers, never to enter a Christian church."
Rachel made no reply. She stared again as though her senses were forsaking her. She thought she would go mad. Her father's brow contracted, and his mien grew fierce as he saw that his daughter's heart had gone irrevocably from him. There was a long, dreadful pause.
"Are you at a loss for words?" asked the baron, and his voice was so savage that Rachel started at the ominous sound.
"Repeat my words, then," continued he, seeing that she made no answer, "or I—"
"Say, on, my father," replied the despairing girl.
Baron Eskeles Flies repeated his oath, and the pale victim spoke the words after him. But at the end of the ordeal she reeled and fell to the floor. Her father bent over, and raising her tenderly, folded her to his heart. His voice was now as loving as ever.
"My precious child, we are truly united now. Nothing can part us, and your happy father will surround you with such splendor as you have never beheld before."
"Oh, my father!" exclaimed she, "what has splendor to do with happiness?"
"Everything," replied her father, with a careless laugh. "Misfortune is not near so ugly in a palace as in a cottage; and I do assure you that the tears which are shed in a softly-cushioned carriage are not half so bitter as those that fall from the eyes of the houseless beggar. Wealth takes the edge from affliction, and lends new lustre to happiness. And it shall shed its brightest halo over yours, my daughter. But I must leave you, for I expect to earn a fortune before I return, when I hope to see you bright and beautiful as ever."
He kissed her forehead and stroked her silky hair. "The Baroness Rachel will be a Jewess forever! Oh, how can I thank you for that promise, my adored child! What new pleasure can I procure for my idol to-day?"