"Not till I am quite safe in the carriage—till you see, till you hear, that I have shut the door. You must hear it, you must watch with your ears, for you must not take your eyes off the horses."
"Don't frighten yourself, fool!"
"And, Abraham, quit not the box during my absence, and be sure and leave the door open, that I may jump in at once on my return."
The coachman answered not.
"And, one thing more. Dear Abraham, will the horses hold out?—six German miles?—without resting. Are you sure the carriage will not break down?"
"Begone, fearful fool, and leave carriage and horses to my care!"
The little man looked at his watch.
"Exactly five. It is just the time. Once more, dear Abraham, keep a sharp look-out, I entreat you."
At a sort of sneaking run, the timid Jew hurried to a door in the park wall, close to which the road passed. He glanced keenly around him. No one was in sight, and, producing a key, he hastily unlocked the door, opening it only just wide enough to allow him to slip through. In an instant he was in the park, and the door shut behind him.
Completely unseen as the Jew believed himself, there yet was one at hand whose watchful eye had followed all his movements.