He found the German Jew sitting there.

"Why, Isaacs? Is this you, already? I am very glad to see you! Mr.

Meadows sent you, I suppose?" said Ishmael, advancing and shaking hands with his visitor.

"Mishter Meators? Who is he? No, Mishter Meators tit not zend me here; no one tit; I gome myzelf. I saw your name in te list of arrivals at dish house, bublished in tish morningsh babers. Ant I zaid--dish is te name of von drue shentlemans; ant I'll gall to see him; and here I am," replied the Jew, cordially returning Ishmael's shake of the hand.

"Thank you, Isaacs, for your good opinion of me. Sit down. I have been very anxious to see you, to speak to you on a subject that I must broach at once, lest we should be interrupted before we have discussed it," said Ishmael, who was desirous of bringing Isaacs to confession before the entrance of Mr. Brudenell.

"Sbeak ten!" said the Jew, settling himself in the big armchair.

"Isaacs, you had a beautiful kinswoman of whom you used to speak to me on our voyage; but you never told me her name," said Ishmael gravely, seating himself near the Jew.

"Titn't I, verily? Vell, her name vas Berenice, daughter of Zillah; Zillah vas mine moder's shister, and vas very fair to look upon. She marriet mit a rish Lonton Shew, and tiet leafing von fair daughter Berenice, mine kinsvoman, who marriet mit an English lort; very olt, very boor, put very mush in love mit my kinsvoman. He marriet her pecause zhe was fair to look upon and very rish; her fader made her marry him pecause he was a lort; he zoon tied and left her a witow, ant zhe never marriet again; zhe left te country and vas away many years ant I have nod zeen her zince. My fair kinswoman! Zhe hat a great wrong done her!" said the Jew, dropping his chin upon his chest and falling into sad and penitential reverie.

"Yes, Isaacs," said Ishmael, rising and laying his hand solemnly on the breast of the Jew. "Yes, Isaacs, she had a great wrong done her, a greater wrong than even you can imagine; a wrong so great in its devastating effects upon her life that you cannot even estimate its enormity! But, Isaacs, you can do something to right this wrong!"

"I! Fader Abraham, what can I?" exclaimed the Jew, impressed and frightened by the earnestness of Ishmael's words.

"You can make a full disclosure of the circumstances under which the miscreant Dromlie Dugald obtained access to Lady Hurstmonceux's private apartments."

The Jew gazed up in the young man's face, as though he was unable to withdraw his eyes; he seemed to be held spellbound by the powerful magnetism of Ishmael's spirit.

"Isaacs," continued the young man, "whatever may be the nature of these disclosures, I promise you that you shall be held free of consequences-I promise you; and you know the value of my promise."

The Jew did not answer and did not remove his eyes from the earnest, eloquent face of Ishmael.

"So you see, Isaacs, that your disclosures, while they will deliver the countess from the suspicions under which her happiness has drooped for so many years, can do you no injury And now, Isaacs, I ask you, as man speaking to man, a question that I adjure you to answer, as you shall answer at that great day of account, when quick and dead shall stand before the bar of God, and the secret of all hearts shall be revealed--did you admit Dromlie Dugald to the private apartments of the Countess of Hurstmonceux, without the knowledge or the consent of her ladyship?"

"Cot forgive me, I tit!" exclaimed the Jew, in a low terrified voice.

"That will do, Isaacs," said Ishmael, ringing the bell.

A waiter came.

"Is there an unoccupied sitting room that I can have the use of for a short time?" inquired Ishmael.

"Yes, sir."

"Show me to it immediately, then."

The waiter led the way, and Ishmael, beckoning the Israelite to accompany him, followed to a comfortable little parlor, warmed by a bright little fire, such as they kept always ready for chance guests.

"Writing materials, James," said Ishmael.

The man went for them; and while he was gone, Ishmael said:

"We might have been interrupted in the other room, Isaacs; that is the reason why I have brought you here."

When the waiter had returned with the writing materials, and arranged them on the table, and again had withdrawn from the room, Ishmael drew a chair to the table, seated himself, took a pen, and said:

"Now Isaacs, sit down near me, and relate, as faithfully as you can, all the circumstances attending the concealment of Dromlie Dugald in Lady Hurstmonceux's apartments."

The Jew, as if acting under the spell of a powerful spirit, did as he was ordered. He drew a chair to the table, seated himself opposite Ishmael, and--to use a common phrase--"made a clean breast of it."

I will not attempt to give his confession in detail. I will only give the epitome of it. He acknowledged that he had been bribed by Captain Dugald to favor his (the captain's) addresses to the beautiful young widow. But he solemnly declared that he had supposed himself to be acting as much for the lady's good as for his own interest, when he took the captain's money and admitted him freely to the house of his kinswoman, where he himself was staying, a temporary guest, and where he received her suitor as his visitor.

Farther, he more solemnly declared that on that fatal evening when he secretly admitted the captain to the house, and guided him to the boudoir of the countess, he had not the remotest suspicion of the nefarious purpose of the suitor. He thought Dugald merely wished for an opportunity for pressing his suit. He had no idea that the unscrupulous villain designed to conceal himself in the closet of the dressing room, and so pass the night in Lady Hurstmonceux's apartments, and show himself in the morning in dishabille at her open window, for the benefit of all the passengers through the street.

He affirmed that when in the morning he heard of this infamous abuse of confidence on the part of his patron, he had not had courage to meet his kinswoman at breakfast, but had decamped from the house in great haste, and had never seen the countess since that eventful day.

He said that he had heard how much she had suffered from the affair, at least for a short time; and that afterwards he had heard she had left the country; that he had since supposed the whole circumstance had been forgotten, and he did not even now understand how his disclosures should serve her, since no one now remembered the escapade of Captain Dugald.

As Isaacs spoke, Ishmael took down the statement in writing. When it was finished he turned to the Jew and said:

"You are mistaken in one thing--nay, indeed, in two things, Isaacs!

The first is, in the supposition that your disclosures cannot now serve the countess, since the world has long ago done her full justice. It is true that the world has done her full justice, for there is no lady living more highly esteemed than is the Countess of Hurstmonceux. So if the world were only in question, Isaacs, I need never have troubled you to speak. But there is an individual in question; and this brings me to your second mistake in the matter; namely, in the supposition that the countess never married again.

She did marry again; hut, a few months subsequent to her marriage, her husband heard the story of Captain Dugald's adventure, as it was then circulated and believed; and he thought himself the dupe of a cunning adventuress, and estranged himself from his wife from that day until this."

"Fader Abraham!" exclaimed the Jew, raising both his hands in consternation.

"Providence has lately put me in possession of all the facts in this case, and has enabled me to pave the way for a reconciliation between the long-severed pair--supposing that you will have the moral courage to do your kinswoman justice."

"Fader Abraham, I vill do her shustice! I vill do her more as shustice. I vill tell te whole truth. I vill tell more as te whole truth, and shwear to it. I vill do anyding. I vould do anyding alt te time, if I had known it," said the Jew earnestly.

"Thank you, Isaacs, I only want the simple truth; more than that would do us harm instead of good. This is the simple truth, I hope, that I have taken down from your lips?"

"Yesh, tat ish te zimple truth!"

"I will read the whole statement to you, Isaacs, and then you will be able to see whether I have taken down your words correctly," said Ishmael. And he took up the manuscript and read it carefully through, pausing frequently to give the Jew an opportunity of correcting him, if necessary.

"Dat ish all right," said Isaacs, when the reading was finished.

"Now sign it, Isaacs."

The Jew affixed his signature.

"Now, Isaacs that is all I want of you for the present; but should you be required to make oath to the truth of this, I suppose that you will be found ready to do so."

"Fader Abraham! yes, I vill do anyding at all, or anyding else, to serve mine kinswoman," said the Jew, rising.

"Thank you, Isaacs. Now tell me where I shall find you, in case you shall be wanted?"

"I am lotging mit mine frient, Samuel Phineas, Butter Lane, Burrough."

"I will remember. Thank you, Isaacs. You have done your kinswoman and her friends good service. She will be grateful to you. I have no doubt she will send for you. Would you like to come to her?"

"Mit all my feet. Vere ish she?"