"I am not so sure. The Jew very rarely takes an oath if he can help it. The Talmud makes it very difficult for him. But you can depend upon it, Abraham Rotheisel will be as anxious as possible to clear you from such an absurd accusation, directly he hears of it."
"He is a good kind of man," said Ráby, "and I am certain that he will swear."
"I hope he may. But anyhow, it will be decided to-day, as the tribunal is sitting even now."
"And shall I have to stand in the dock?" said Ráby anxiously.
"Yes, I am afraid you must. So I advise you to stay here and see the business through."
"With your permission I will first write a letter."
"Pardon me, dear friend, but in this room you may neither write nor despatch a letter."
"Am I then a prisoner already?"
"Not exactly, but you are accused, so that I cannot officially be a party to any correspondence you carry on. Meanwhile, I would suggest you just go upstairs to my own private rooms, where you will find my daughter who will give you pen, ink, and paper, wherewith to write; moreover, she will gladly carry it to the post herself. Then, seeing that the business will be prolonged till evening, you will, I hope, share our homely dinner with us."
A blow in the face could hardly have hurt Ráby more than this kindly proposal. For would it not mean meeting Mariska again?