It was now the beginning of September, and the clocks of the town had just struck eight as Nina put her hand on the lock of the Jew's door.

As usual it was not bolted, and she was able to enter without waiting in the street for a servant to come to her.

She went at once along the narrow passage and up the gloomy wooden stairs, at the foot of which there hung a small lamp, giving just light enough to expel the actual blackness of night.

On the first landing Nina knocked at a door, and was desired to enter by a soft female voice.

The only occupant of the room when she entered was a dark-haired child, some twelve years old perhaps, but small in stature and delicate, and, as appeared to the eye, almost wan.