"No longer now—Herr Brazovics is dead."
"Dead! so he is dead? And his wife and daughter?" interrupted Frau Therese, quickly.
"They have lost everything by his death."
"Ah, just God! Thy avenging hand has reached them!"
"Mother, good mother!" cried Noémi, with gentle entreaty.
"Sir, there is one more thing you ought to know. When that blow fell on us, when I had implored Brazovics on my knees not to drive us to beggary, it struck me that this man had a wife and child. I determined to find out his wife and tell her my misery—she would help me and take pity on us. I took my child in my arms and traveled in the hottest part of the summer to Komorn. I sought her out in her fine large house, and waited at the door, for they would not let me in. At last Frau Brazovics came out with her five-year-old daughter. I fell on my knees, and begged her for God's sake to take compassion on us, and be our mediator with her husband. The woman seized my arm and thrust me down the step; I tried, in falling, to protect my child with both arms, that it might not be hurt, and struck my head against one of the two pillars which support the balcony. Here is the scar still visible. The little girl laughed aloud when she saw me limping away and heard my baby cry. That is why I sing 'Hosanna,' and blessed be the hand which thrust her away from the steps down which she cast us."
"Oh, mother, don't talk so!"
"So they have come to misery? Have they become beggars themselves—the haughty, purse-proud people? Do they wear rags, and beg in vain at the doors of their former friends?"
"No, dear lady," said Michael; "some one has been found to take care of them."
"Madman!" cried Therese, with passionate force. "Why should he put a spoke in fate's wheel? How can he dare to receive into his home the curse which will ruin him?"