bread and a jar of water were thrust in, and the footsteps died away in the distance. Sometimes he would sleep and dream wild, fitful dreams of unclouded sky and green fields; once he dreamed of his discovery, and awoke trembling, with great drops of sweat upon him. Then the madness of despair seized him, and again he engaged in hopeless strife with the cold and passive dungeon walls. But this fit lasted but a short time; day by day he grew weaker, and the power of speech went from him, and he lay down to die.
One day he heard more footsteps. They approached, and stopped before his door. It was opened, and the yellow light of a lantern filled the cell. Reichenberg did not move, only he raised his sunken eyes as a voice, soft and low, addressed him:—
"Son, thy presence is required elsewhere. Rise and follow me!"
The wretched man raised himself with difficulty, and two familiars assisted him tenderly up the interminable steps and along the endless corridor, while ever the lantern preceded them; and the soft voice spoke again:—
"Be of good cheer, my son, thy trials are almost ended!"
Another door was reached and opened. The Jew stood in a lofty, vaulted chamber, dimly lighted by three silver lamps hanging from the roof. At a table on the further side sat two men clothed in the black garb of the Inquisition, the table before them being covered with large manuscript volumes, and between them was a raised throne, unoccupied as yet. In a dark corner stood a brazier of burning coals, and over it crouched a wizened, bent figure, its face hidden by a hideous mask, occupied in twisting and turning in the flames some curious steel instruments. The whole place seemed to be filled with the echo of the last victim's groans.
He who had spoken in the gentle voice now took his place on the raised throne behind the table, and lifted a pair of wistful, brown eyes full of suffering and pity. Then Reichenberg perceived that he was in the presence of the Inquisitor-General, Don Philippo del Alguarez, and for very fear had almost fallen. Don Alguarez addressed him in a smooth, even voice:—
"Reverend Doctor Karl Reichenberg, thou art a Jew and a heretic. Is it not so?"
The poor wretch tried to speak, but could not, and simply moved his head, while the Inquisitor proceeded:—
"Thou hast had dealings with the evil one in divers manners and places, and wouldst have sold thyself body and soul to him. But the Holy Mother Church lets not her sons thus lose their immortal souls; wherefore hath she imposed punishment upon the carnal flesh, thereby to snatch their spiritual being from destruction. Satan hath desired thee, my son, but thy sufferings, which have endured but a little time, have freed thee from the meshes of thy wickedness, and now thou art free," and at the words a tender smile illumined his face.
Reichenberg had listened without hearing; but at the word "free" he started, stood upright, and stumbled towards the door. But Don Philippo raised his arm, and gently waved him back.
"One other word have I yet to speak to thee. Seeing how great a mercy the Holy Church hath extended to thee, she requireth but a slight service at thy hands before thou goest forth; surely thou wilt not refuse to render thanks for thy great deliverance."
Rising from his seat he slowly made his way to the door, and, with the words, "Follow me," passed from the chamber and into the corridor.
With a strange joy in his eyes, the Jew followed him, stumbling again and again in his eagerness, till they came to a high-roofed, spacious chapel, through whose stained windows the glorious sunlight streamed in. The prisoner drew a long breath; this was the living world; he had been raised from the grave.
The chapel was filled with a crowd of monks and priests, all waiting for the service to begin. Through these the Inquisitor led him, right up to the organ, where, taking him by the hand, he spoke again, still in the sweet mournful tones.
"Son, 'tis required of thee to take upon thyself a menial office, yet one that will show thy gratitude to Heaven; for thou must needs work the bellows of this organ. But," and here he led the Jew to a small cell, lit by a single lamp, "thou must not let the wind fail, or surely a terrible doom will be thine; for yon great block" (pointing to a black mass which seemed to hang from the roof) "will descend and crush out thy life. But fear not, thy task is light, and soon shalt thou be free in the light of day."
With these words, he closed the massive cage-like door upon the Jew, bolting and
