So she stopped and sang, remembering not the less as she sang, that that which she was about to do, if really done, would make all such singing unavailing for her.
But then, perhaps, even yet it might not be done.

Lotta's first prediction, that the Jew would desert her, had certainly come true; and Lotta's second prediction, that there would be nothing left for her but to drown herself, seemed to her to be true also.

She had left the house in which her father's dead body was still lying, with this purpose.

Doubly deserted as she now was by lover and father, she could live no longer.

It might, however, be possible that that saint who was so powerful over the waters might yet do something for her--might yet interpose on her behalf, knowing, as he did, of course, that all idea of marriage between her, a Christian, and her Jew lover had been abandoned.