pliants eagerly listening to one of their most popular and fanatical priests. A thrill of horror pervaded his frame, as these words of Father Ambrose rang through the building :

"Up, up, men of Zurich, and smite the unbelieving race, whose dwelling within the walls of our fair city has caused the wrath of God to fall so heavily upon us! Will you still linger and cry for mercy, while the plague spot is upon your wives and children, and even the ministers of Heaven's appointment are falling by hundreds around you? Away, men of Zurich, cast out the accursed Jews, even as Jonah was cast out, to still the raging of the sea! While they remain in our land, woe, woe to our people!"

This address was received by the kneeling crowd as a command direct from Heaven; they arose in one mass, and rushed from the church, with whatever weapon they chanced to have, or could pick up, towards the Jews' quarter of the city; and, with fierce cries of "Death to the unbelievers!" moved sullenly on, the multitude augmented at every step by the eager, the curious, and fanatical.

Earlach was carried on by the living tide. He struggled, as only man may struggle who has the life and death of one beloved object resting upon his efforts, to get without the crowd, that, by a nearer route, he might first reach the Jews' quarter and snatch Zillah, the daystar of his heart, from impending destruction.

At length, finding himself free, he darted up an obscure and narrow alley, and unexpectedly encountered his father. The old hero of Laupen, seizing him by the arm, asked the meaning of his haste, as well as the approaching roar of the crowd. The cause was soon told, and, with every limb writhing with impatience, the young man sought to be released. He was at last permitted to proceed, and his father walked on, sternly revolving in his own mind the possible reason why his son should be so anxious for the escape of the old Jew. Of the daughter he had never heard. He followed the multitude towards the devoted dwellings, not so much to take a part in the bloody scene to be enacted, as to watch the proceedings of his son, and perhaps rescue him from danger.

The door of Ben Hassen's house was gained; with breathless haste, young Earlach tried to burst it open, but in vain. He then shouted to the inmates to open quickly; but no answer came. At last, a window slowly opened from above, and an old domestic, peeping out cautiously, asked what he wanted.

"Open the door quickly, good Levi," cried Earlach; "life and death depend upon your haste!"

The old man, with trembling hands, unbarred the door; Earlach rushed in, bidding Levi bar the door securely after him, and, springing on before the astonished domestic, made his way to the apartments usually occupied by Zillah.

What a contrast did that peaceful chamber present to the fearful scene of tumult without!

Zillah's apartments had been fitted up by her doating father with every luxury and adornment that affection could devise and wealth procure, and was totally unlike the simple Swiss habitations of that day. The ceiling was painted in arabesque, with flowers falling out of gilded baskets, seemingly threatening a rosy shower upon the lovely occupant of the room. The walls were covered with rich hangings of velvet, and the apartment contained two of those highly polished plates of steel, which then supplied the place of the mirrors of the present day. The largest sized were a luxury too expensive for the use of any but the nobles of the land. Delicate stands of carved ivory were placed about the room, on which were crystal bottles filled with the most delicious perfumes, and costly vases, with flowers from distant climes, shed their fragrance from various parts of the room, their culture being the greatest delight of the fair Zillah. They were like the faces of familiar friends: she had breathed their perfume when a child in Eastern climes, and with their beauty and fragrance was associated in her mind the image of her mother, upon whose grave many were now blooming in that bright distant land. Persian carpets covered the floor, and, on a pile of magnificently embroidered cushions, half reclined the beautiful girl, seemingly lost in thought, her head resting upon her small dimpled hand.

Zillah retained her Eastern costume, as well as tastes, and the caftan of gold brocade, flowered with silver, well-fitted to her shape, showed to admiration the beautiful proportions of her waist and bust. Her drawers were of pale pink; her waistcoat green and silver; her slippers white satin, finely embroidered. Her lovely arms were adorned with bracelets of diamonds, and her broad girdle set round with the same precious gems. On her head she wore a rich Turkish handkerchief, of pink and silver, her own fine, black hair hanging in long tresses; and on one side of her head were some bodkins of jewels, presenting to the eye as radiant a picture of loveliness as could be imagined.

Into this chamber her lover wildly rushed, beseeching her to fly. The startled girl sprang from her couch terrified, she knew not at what.

"I come to snatch you from destruction, Zillah! Your people, all, all!" cried he, shudderingly, as he thought of her possible fate, "are devoted to a bloody death; and we must fly! Even now I hear their cries, and the work of destruction is going on !"

have borne her from the room, when he found his arm gently grasped by the old rabbin, who had entered unperceived.

"Whither would you fly, young man, with a daughter of my hated race? We are hemmed around by your cruel people; and as well might you ask mercy for the lamb from the hungry wolf, as hope to escape through their ranks with the despised Jewess. Either leave us or follow me at once; there is still one chance of escape."

As he spoke, he led the way into a small, dark chamber in the rear of the house, which overlooked the Limmat, upon whose bank the edifice was built. A few hundred yards lower down, the river entered the lake from which the town took its name. It was always covered with a number of small craft employed as lighters to the ships anchored in the lake, many of which, being owned by the Jews, offered a better chance of escape than Earlach anticipated.

Ben Hassen looked anxiously through a narrow slit in the wall out upon the boats lying lazily upon the water, and then striking a portion of the wall with his hand, pressed a spring, and a small door opened, showing a narrow flight of steps. He motioned to Earlach and Zillah to descend, and quickly closing the aperture, they groped their way in silence and darkness to the bottom of the flight. He then bade them remain quietly in the same spot until his return; and, as he turned an abrupt angle of the wall, they could hear his footsteps again descending a much longer flight, habit having made him perfectly familiar with the secret passage.

In a few moments he returned with a lantern, and they were conducted by him through a short gallery to another flight of steps, which they descended, and found themselves in a large cave, evidently much improved in size by the hand of man. Piles of merchandise were placed around its sides, of the most varied description: fine shawls from India, bales of spices and furs worth a prince's ransom. Never before had so much of luxury met the eyes of the young Swiss. The sullen plashing of the waters of the lake was distinctly heard; and a small iron door at the extreme end of the cave opened upon it, the rock jutting out into the lake, the roof of the cave forming a foundation to the house, and extending beyond it.

The enraged multitude, meanwhile, becoming every moment more furious, had carried desolation before it, destroying the houses of the Jews, and putting to death, without regard to age or sex, as many as fell into their hands.

Old Earlach followed moodily, but took no part in the massacre or spoliation, until the house of the abbin was reached. Bars and axes, wielded by willing hands, soon battered down the doors and windows, and the rabble rushed in. Then it was the old hero, with a shout, dashed aside those before him, and led the search; from room to room ho

went, calling upon his son, but none answered. The father's anguish suggested the fear that Rudolph had been murdered or carried off by the old Jew and his comrades, in revenge for the popular assault.

Filled with these dreadful thoughts, the old chief hastily called together some of his friends in the crowd, and making known to them his fears and determination not to leave a stone of the building standing until he sought in every possible hidingplace for his lost son, he ordered his followers to drive off the plunderers of the crowd. These, sooth to say, had well nigh helped themselves to all that was worth carrying off in the house.

Hans, the foster-brother of Rudolph, was chafing like a wild boar, the apprehensions of old Earlach having reached his ears. He doubted not that Rudolph had been slain by the Jews; and, collecting a band of his own associates, wild, daring young men, warmly devoted to himself and Rudolph, they formed a cordon around the house, that none might escape from it unseen.

The work of destruction went on, and the crash of the beams and falling masonry was distinctly heard by the fugitives in the cave. Ben Hassen opened the iron door, and made signals to some of the small boats near, but they were not answered; the boatmen not being willing to quit their place of safety for the dangerous vicinity of the shore. The old man looked around for some small boat, in which, unassisted, he might make his escape, and found one attached to the iron ring used for that purpose, and driven into the rock at the entrance of the cave. Hastening back, he threw a large cloak over his daughter, and hurried her on to this their only hope of safety, followed by Rudolph. Putting his daughter in, he pushed off; the young man stepped in also, and, taking up an oar, began to ply it dexterously before a word was spoken.

As they shot out into the open stream, from what seemed to be the foundation of the house, some of the sentinels stationed by Hans on the stone platform just above their heads, gave the alarm, and they were assailed by various missiles, but with no effect. After a brisk row of half an hour, they found themselves at the side of a dark, battered-looking vessel, which had been for several days anchored far out in the lake, waiting for a fair wind to proceed to its destination at the mouth of the Aar, where it was stationed as a sort of receiving-ship for the merchandise brought down that lordly river by smaller boats. The captain was a Jew, well known to Ben Hassen, and often employed by him in the transportation of his merchandise. They clambered up the sides of the vessel, and the old man, in a few words, told the captain of their strait, and the necessity for immediate flight; but not a ripple disturbed the calm waters of the lake, the sails flapped idly against the mast, and, with a countenance of despair, the Jew turned to Rudolph.

"Young man," said he, "I thank you for the kindness you have manifested towards me and mine; but your presence here can do us no farther service, and may work us, if possible, more deadly peril. Take the boat, and return to those who doubtless await you at their banquet of blood!"

"Not so," replied the young man; "I leave you not until Zillah is in a place of safety. Nor then, if she permits me to remain."

"Can the dove mate with the wolf?" asked the old man, bitterly. "As well imagine that as expect to wed my daughter. Evil was the day on which her feet touched these shores; and, if we escape, never more shall she behold them!"

They were too much absorbed in their own feelings to observe two or three boats put off from the town, and steering most suspiciously for the vessel in which they had taken refuge. The captain pointed this out; and, as the dead calm prevented the ship's getting under way, they awaited whatever might befall them with the calmness of utter defencelessness.

The boats came nearer and nearer, filled with strong and active foes. Twenty sprang upon deck, Hans at their head, who no sooner saw Rudolph than he shouted, "Heaven be praised, we have found you alive!" and seized his friend by the hand. The Jew and his daughter were captured, but not murdered, as they expected. Rudolph loudly commanded his partisans and friends to return and leave the Jews to make their escape. Hans, to the surprise of those he had just led to the assault, vehemently supported him, and insisted on their departure. The sturdy foster-brother was too much accustomed to yield to Rudolph's judgment, and follow his lead unquestioning, to think of disputing his will. Though, had he paused to consider, he might have wondered what magic influence had awakened so deep an interest for this Jewish family in the young man's breast.

Ben Hassen and his daughter were released, and the men were about returning to the boats, when another and most unwelcome actor appeared upon the scene.

"Seize the Jew and his daughter, and place them in the boats!" cried the stern voice of old Earlach, who had been an unobserved spectator of the scene, some minutes before he spoke, from one of the last boats, whose approach was unnoticed until then. "And you, young sir"-to his son-" follow me!"

"Strike at once, Nazarene !" said the old Jew, with dignity, confronting Earlach. "Spare yon innocent girl, if not myself, the fury of the crowd on yonder blood-stained shore. Strike, and we will deem it mercy!"

"I am not your executioner, old man. You and your daughter shall be brought before a higher tribunal-that of Mother Church-to answer for the crimes laid to your charge."

"Then, indeed, may we expect the most cruel

fate. For myself I care not; these old sinews may be racked and tortured; I can endure the worst; but my innocent, darling child, doom her not to anything so fearful!-or," cried the old man, changing his tone and attitude of supplication to one of fierce menace, "the bitterest curses of a father shall cleave to your house to the latest generation!"

"Place them in the boat, Hans, and see they escape not," said old Earlach, sternly. And taking his son by the arm, drew him into the boat, and seated himself by his side while they proceeded to the city.

Rudolph in vain entreated his father to forego his determination of placing Ben Hassen and his daughter in the custody of the Abbot of the Franciscans. He confessed the deep interest he took in the safety of Zillah, thereby unconsciously increasing her peril. Not that his father was cruel by nature, but the mental darkness of the age had obscured his otherwise clear understanding; and the idea of his son being in love with a Jewess, even were she a second Queen of Sheba, was something so utterly startling and abhorrent to him, that he could ascribe it to no agency save that of magic. The Jews were said to be addicted to the black art, and Earlach believed the accusation just.

Immured in one of the cells of the Franciscan Convent sat Zillah, despoiled of her rich robes and glittering jewels, and habited in a coarse serge garment, leaving only the exquisite hands and throat exposed to view. Her face was deadly pale, and she looked, in her attitude of dejection, more like some finished piece of sculpture than a breathing being. After being separated from her father, she had fallen into such a deathlike swoon, that her captors at one time thought she had escaped from their hands, and at once ended her sorrows and her life. But sorrow and life were still strong in that young heart; the magnitude of the affliction enabled her to endure it; for, after the first keen pang, in the agony of which the very semblance of life passed away, returning consciousness brought with it a dull, leaden weight of sorrow, by which the acuteness of the first feeling was blunted. The past, the present, and the future were alike misty and indistinct to her; a troubled expression would at times agitate her deathlike countenance, and once or twice she pressed her hands upon her brow, as if attempting to collect her scattered thoughts, and to remove the sense of oppression which weighed so heavily there.

The grating of the door upon its rusty hinges, as it was unlocked and opened, caused a slight shiver to run through the frame of the unhappy girl; but she did not raise her eyes or change her posture.

"Daughter of an accursed race," said the monk who entered, "confess the dark arts you have used to inthral the spirit of young Rudolph, of Earlach, who now lies bereft of reason, calling upon you in

his madness, unable to shake off the fierce fever and spell by which you have enchanted him. Confess, and avow your penitence, and peradventure the Holy Church may be merciful."

"Alas, dread sir, I have naught to confess. I know no art save that of loving too well, too rashly; and woe is me that my father has thereby fallen into the hands of his enemies!"

Here, for the first time, bitter tears covered her face, and trickled through the slender fingers that were pressed in agony before her eyes.

The monk was touched, and, for one moment, the eloquence of nature was stronger than prejudice and fanaticism; but, walking hastily to and fro the little cell, he dispelled the uneasy feeling, and, with all his previous sternness, bade her prepare to appear before the heads of the church, who had assembled to try her, or rather to condemn her to such punishment as they chose to award.

"My father! May I not see once more my poor father?" said Zillah, beseechingly.

"Yes, yes," said the monk, hurriedly.

"And let

me warn you once again, your only chance of escape from the fiery death awaiting you is by confessing freely, and throwing yourself upon the mercy of the church-by becoming a convert to her doctrines. In two hours, a lay brother will conduct you into the presence of the holy tribunal." So saying, without casting another look upon Zillah, the monk strode from the cell, locking the door after him.

When his footsteps could be no longer heard, Zillah prostrated herself upon the floor, in earnest supplication for strength in this her hour of need, and sought it not in vain.

Where was Rudolph? Stretched on a bed of pain and raging fever, the effect of anxiety and agitation of mind. At the moment his efforts were most needed, he was disabled from doing anything towards the liberation of Zillah.

Anne, his youngest and only unmarried sister, and the faithful Hans, watched over him night and day; and, as he raved incessantly of the young Jewess, they grieved bitterly over him, and sympathized with his sufferings. But youth and a strong constitution triumphed over disease; and, on the tenth day after the captivity of poor Zillah, he woke from a long, deep sleep perfectly collected, and the throbbing of his pulse quieted to almost infantile weakness.

"Sister Anne," said he, tenderly, taking the hand of the fair girl who was bending anxiously over him, "what is all this? I have been ill. What has happened?"

"Hush," whispered his sister. "You have, indeed, been fearfully ill; but, the Holy Virgin be praised, our prayers in your behalf have been heard, and you are spared to us. But you must be quiet, and sleep again, dear brother, before I can hear or answer any questions." And, going to a table near

the couch, she brought him some light nourish.

ment

He partook, and sank down exhausted into another profound sleep, which lasted for several hours.

Hans walked softly into the room, and, to his anxious look of inquiry, Anne smiled and whispered, "Better, much better; but we must be quiet, and keep him so as long as possible."

"I have just heard that," thought Hans, "which will send the blood boiling through his veins in another fever flood. Well, she may be a Jewess, and have dealings with the devil; but to my mind she has an innocent look, and is too pretty to be burnt like an old witch. I am heartily sorry I ever had anything to do with her capture."

Anne bade Hans watch by Rudolph until she took some needful rest, being well nigh worn out with fatigue. He prepared to obey by taking his seat in an old oaken chair, from its weight a fixture at the side of the bed; and the more he thought of the fate of Zillah the more he pitied her, and dreaded its effects upon Rudolph.

"I have ever lacked thought," muttered he, "or I might devise some plan for her rescue. Were he only better, and knew all, something might be done. There are still three days. I must tell him, and whatever he commands, I will perform."

Brightening up under the influence of these kind and hopeful thoughts, Hans continued to muse until Rudolph's heavy breathing became so infectious that he, perforce, yielded to the influence of sleep. How long he remained in this state he knew not, but a touch and the laughing remonstrance of Rudolph roused him.

"Hans, my good fellow, you must be blowing a trumpet accompaniment to the advance of an imaginary army, from the loudness of your breathing."

The good youth excused himself by saying he had walked far over the mountains for some herbs, said to be sovereign in the cure of distempers caused by witchcraft, if gathered before sunrise, and was somewhat wearied.

"Witchcraft! What folly, Hans! Do you believe, like the rest, that I am bewitched? I tell you, I love Zillah better than life; her danger alone, and the mad excitement of the few days preceding her capture, have produced my illness. Both Zillah and her father escaped from the boats, did they not?" asked he, looking eagerly at Hans.

"Alas, no!" replied Hans. "They have been divided among the birds of prey. The Dominicans have the old man, and will drain his coffers well, be they ever so full, before they let him off; and the girl was locked up by the Franciscans."

"Gold can do much," said Rudolph; "but where can I procure the gold? Yet Zillah must be liberated!"

"It must be soon, then," said Hans, abruptly; "for she has been tried and condemned." "Condemned to what, and for what?" exclaimed

Rudolph, fiercely, springing up in the bed and seizing the arm of Hans, as if to prevent his escape before answering the question.

"I pray you,” cried Hans, "do not go mad again! Be quiet, and I will tell you all I know; and, moreover, will peril life and limb to do whatever you may command.”

This last sentence, uttered with an expression of deep devotion to Rudolph, soothed him, and he sank back upon his pillows, while Hans proceeded with his narrative.

Zillah, according to his account, had been brought before the ecclesiastical council, accused by old Earlach of having bewitched his son, whose life was then in peril from her spells. In the state of popular feeling against the Jews, to be accused was but to be condemned; and, as Zillah either could not or would not confess herself guilty of the charge, she was sentenced to be burnt at the stake, with some others, as a terror to evil-doers. In three days, the sentence was to be carried into execution before the Franciscan Convent.

"I will die or save her!" said Rudolph, sternly. "I will rescue her from the very flames. Hans, how many of our tried companions can we rely upon to aid us in an enterprise, I know not how wild and desperate, but one I swear to attempt, though followed by certain death?"

"Do you but point out the way," replied Hans, "and leave the rest to me. I know a score of burly fellows who would follow you to the pit itself without asking a question."

"Search them out, then, at once, Hans; as you love me, lose no time; and beware that no one suspects any movement of the kind upon our part. My illness must answer one good turn, by putting my father off his guard; and we must make the most, too, of his absence from the city."

Anne's entrance stopped further parley on the one absorbing topic, and she did not fail to notice the excited state of her brother, who was impatiently tossing upon his bed. She glanced reproachfully at Hans.

"You have been talking imprudently, I fear," said she. "Reach me that cup with the potion the

leech left."

Hans, much embarrassed, obeyed; and, taking it from him, she presented it to her brother, and insisted upon his drinking it. The drug was narcotic, and under its influence the patient sank gradually into profound sleep; while Hans left the house with a quick step, but thoughtful brow. The enterprise to which he had pledged himself was not without great risk to all engaged, even supposing he could find a sufficient number as devoted and willing to undertake it as himself, in the face of the anathemas of the church, more feared than deadly weapons.

"Ho, there, Hans!" cried a youth of stout frame and smiling face; "how fares young Earlach? Is

it true the young Jewess has bewitched him-that he is nigh unto death?"

"Fools say so, Ernst; but there is only one sort of witchcraft about it, Rudolph swears; and that, I trow, the pretty Gretchen, Dame Margaret's granddaughter, in the hamlet below, has dealt out freely to you! Nay, you well know my meaning! And I begin to think the helping hand we lent the old man in capturing the Jewess was the worst day's work we ever undertook, let Mother Church say what she will."

"How!" demanded Ernst. "Rudolph wed with a Jewess ?"

"Were Gretchen come of Jew or Turk, think you you could stand tamely by and see her burn, even though it might be for the good of your soul? Rudolph means not, I trust, to wed her; his only wish before, as you know, was to send her and her father in safety out of the country. We helped to prevent their escape; and I have promised to lend a helping hand to undo my own work. I must see how many of our comrades will join me in doing his bidding, whatever it may be. You, Ernst, must along with us."

"Provided Rudolph only desires to get the Jews out of the country, I will join you. The maiden, too, is a pretty one, like my own Gretchen. Go, Hans, and see as many of our comrades as you can, nor will I be idle; to-morrow we can meet without the walls, and determine what is to be done."

They separated, taking different routes; the one deeper into the thoroughfares of the city, and the other without the walls, to the farm-houses and hamlets below.

Ernst walked rapidly on, with the light, elastic tread which the bracing air and hardy life of a brave mountaineer could alone give. His way lay through vineyards and cornfields, sometimes on the sloping banks of the lake, sometimes on a small footpath formed upon terraces on a level with the water, during great part of the way shaded by large beech and oak-trees. The walnut and other fruit-trees that overhung the pathway like weeping willows, many of them being planted horizontally, stretched from the sides of the hill, or from the edge of the water, their boughs dipping into the lake beneath. The scattered cottages, the numerous villages, the picturesque villas on the banks of the lake, with here and there a neat church, pointing with its taper spire to the calm, blue heavens above, added to the beauty of the scene; and, by their silent appeal, touched with softness the rugged, though not unfeeling breast of the mountaineer, who had been revolving in his mind the communication of Hans; nor was the termination of his walk, just in sight, likely to weaken these pleadings of compassion.

A peasant's cottage, with a cluster of fine beechtrees in front, its small terraced garden on one side, and a few cherry-trees laden with fruit on the other. bespoke peace and contented industry, from th