her mother had been saying all morning to every body how odd it was of Mr. Harrington to take notice whether a Jewess fainted or not. Lady Anne said,

for her part she had taken my part; she did not think it so odd of me, but she thought it odd and ridiculous of the Jewess to faint about Shylock. But the reason she called was, because she was dying with curiosity to know if I had heard any more about the Jewess. Was she an heiress or not? I must find out and tell': she had heard—but she could not stay now-going to ride in the park.

I had often observed that my mother's presentiments varied from day to day, according to the state of her nerves, or of some slight external circumstances. I was extremely anxious to prevail upon her to accompany me to see the Spanish pictures, and I therefore put off my visit for a day, when I found my mother had engaged herself to attend a party of fair encouragers of smugglers to a cheap French lace shop. I wrote an apology to Mr. Montenero, and Heaven knows how much it cost me. But my heroic patience was of no avail; I could not persuade my mother to accompany me. To all her former feelings, the pride of opinion and the jealousy of maternal affection were now added; she was piqued to prove herself in the right, and vexed to see that, right or wrong, I would not yield to her entreaties. I thought I acted solely from the dictates of pure reason and enlightened philanthropy.

CHAPTER IX.

MOWBRAY was curious, he said, to know how the Jewess would look by daylight, and he begged that he might accompany me to see the pictures. As I had told him that I had permission to take with me any of my friends, I could not refuse his request, though I must own that I would rather have gone without him. I was a little afraid of his raillery, and of the quickness of his observation. During our walk, however, he with address-with that most irresistible kind of address, which assumes an air of perfect frankness and cordiality, contrived to dissipate my feelings of embarrassment; and by the time we got to Mr. Montenero's door, I rejoiced that I had with me a friend and supporter.

"A handsome house-a splendid house, this," said Mowbray, looking up at the front, as we waited for admission. "If the inside agree with the out, faith, Harrington, your Jewish heiress will soon be heard of on 'Change, and at court too, you'll see. Make haste and secure your interest in her, I advise you."

To our great disappointment the servant told us that neither Mr. nor miss Montenero was at home. But orders had been left with a young man of his to attend me and my company. At this moment I heard a well-known voice on the stairs, and Jacob, poor Jacob, appeared: joy flashed in his face at the sight of me; he flew down stairs, and across the hall, exclaiming, "It is—it is my own good Mr. Harrington !" But he started back at the sight of Mowbray, and his whole countenance and manner changed. In an

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embarrassed voice, he began to explain why Mr. Montenero was not at home; that he had waited yesterday in hopes of seeing me at the appointed time, till my note of apology had arrived. I had not positively named any day for my visit, and Mr. Montenero had particular business that obliged him to go out this morning, but that he would be back in an hour: "Meantime, sir, as Mr. Montenero has desired," said Jacob, "I shall have the honour of showing the pictures to you and your friend."

It was not till he came to the words your friend, that Jacob recollected to bow to lord Mowbray, and even then it was a stiffnecked bow. Mowbray, contrary to his usual assurance, looked a little embar rassed, yet spoke to Jacob as to an old acquaintance. Jacob led us through several handsome, I might say splendid apartments, to the picture-room.

Good! Good!" whispered Mowbray as we went along, till the moment we entered the picture-room; then making a sudden stop, and start of recollection, and pulling out his watch, he declared that he had till that minute forgotten an indispensable engagement-that he must come some other day to see these charming pictures. He begged that I would settle that for him-he was excessively sorry, but go he must-and off he went immediately.

The instant he was out of sight, Jacob seemed re lieved from the disagreeable constraint under which he laboured, and his delight was manifest when he had me to himself. I conceived that Jacob still felt resentment against Mowbray, for the old quarrel at school. I was surprised at this, and in my own mind I blamed Jacob.

I have always found it the best way to speak openly, and to go to the bottom of mysteries and quarrels at

once so turning to Jacob, I asked him, whether in right of our former acquaintance I might speak to him with the freedom of one who heartily wished him well? The tears came into his eyes, and he could only say, "Speak, pray-and thank you, sir." "Then, Jacob," said I, " I thought you could not for such a number of years bear malice for a schoolboy's offence; and yet your manner just now to lord Mowbray am I mistaken?-set me right, if I am did I misinterpret your manner, Jacob?"

"No, sir," said he, looking up in my face, with his genuine expression of simplicity and openness," no, sir, you do not mistake, nor misinterpret Jacob's manner; you know him too well, and his manner tells too plainly; you do not misinterpret the feeling, but you mistake the cause; and since you are so kind as to desire me to set you right, I will do so; but it is too long a story to keep you standing.”

"Not at all-I am interested-go on."

"I should not," said Jacob, "be worthy of this interest-this regard, which it is joy to my very heart to see that you still feel for me-I should not be worthy in the least of it, if I could bear malice so many years for a schoolboy's offence.

"No, Mr. Harrington, the schoolboy young lord is forgotten. But long since that time, since this young lord has been grown into a man, and an officer -at Gibraltar

The recollection of whatever it was that happened at Gibraltar seemed to come at this instant so full upon Jacob's feelings, that he could not go on. He took up his story farther back. He reminded me of the time when we had parted at Cambridge; he was then preparing to go to Gibraltar, to assist in keeping a store there, for the brother and partner of his friend

and benefactor the London jeweller, Mr. Manessa, who had ventured a very considerable part of his forthis speculation.

tune upon

About that time many Jews had enriched themselves at Gibraltar, by keeping stores for the troops; and during the siege it was expected that it would be a profitable business.

Mr. Manessa's store under Jacob's care went on prosperously till the day when lord Mowbray arrived at Gibraltar with a regiment, of which, young as he was, he had been appointed lieutenant-colonel: "He recognized me, the first time we met; I saw he was grown into a fine-looking officer; and indeed, Mr. Harrington, I saw him, without bearing the least malice for any little things that had passed, which I thought, as you say, were only schoolboy follies. But in a few minutes I found, to my sorrow, that he was not changed in mind towards me.

"His first words at meeting me in the public streets were, So! are you here, young Shylock? What brings you to Gibraltar? You are of the tribe of Gad, I think, thou Wandering Jew!'

"Lord Mowbray's servants heard, and caught their lord's witticism: the serjeants and soldiers repeated the colonel's words, and the nicknames spread through the regiment, and through the garrison; wherever I turned, I heard them echoed: poor Jacob was called young Shylock by some, and by others the Wandering Jew. It was a bitter jest, and soon became bitter earnest.

"The ignorant soldiers really believed me to be that Jew whom Christians most abominate *.

* See Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, for the ballad of the Wandering Jew.