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CHAPTER XIII.

EPHRAIM THE TEMPTER.

“You seek me?” asked Gotzkowsky, as Ephraim entered and saluted him in silence.

Gotzkowsky’s sharp glance had detected in his insolent hearing and contracted features that it was not pity or sympathy which had brought the Jew to him, but only a desire to gloat over the sufferings of his victim.  “He shall not enjoy his triumph.  He shall find me collected and determined, and shall not suspect my grief.”  Thus thinking, he forced his features into a cheerful expression, and handing a chair to the still silent Ephraim, said laughingly:  “Indeed, I must be in a dangerous plight, if the birds of prey are already settling around me.  Do you already scent my death, Herr Ephraim?  By Heaven! that would be a dainty morsel for you!”

“You are angry with me,” said Ephraim, shaking his head slowly; “but you shall know how much injustice you do me.  I bring you an important and fearful piece of news.”

“It must be fearful, indeed,” interrupted Gotzkowsky, “as you do yourself the pleasure of bringing it to me in person.”

Ephraim shrugged his shoulders and abruptly replied, “De Neufville has failed!”

A cry of horror escaped Gotzkowsky’s lips; he staggered, and was obliged to support himself by a chair to keep himself from falling.  This was the last, decisive blow, and it had wounded him mortally.  “De Neufville has failed!” he muttered low to himself.

“Yes, he is bankrupt!” said Ephraim with scarcely suppressed malice.  “The proud Christian merchant, whose greatest pleasure it was to look down with contempt upon the Jew Ephraim, he is bankrupt.  The Jew stands firm, but the Christian merchant is broken.”  And as he spoke, he broke into a scornful laugh, which brought back to Gotzkowsky his composure and self-possession.

“You triumph!” he said, “and on your brow is marked your rejoicing over our fall.  Yes! you have conquered, for De Neufville’s failure is your deed.  It was you who persecuted him so long, and by cunning suspicions and calumny undermined his credit until it was destroyed, and the whole edifice of his honorable industry fell together.”

“It is my work,” cried Ephraim exultingly, “for he stood in my way, and I have pushed him out of it—­what more?  Life is but a combat; whoever is the strongest—­that is, has the most money—­is conqueror.”

“De Neufville has fallen—­that is a hard blow,” muttered Gotzkowsky; and as his wandering eye met Ephraim’s, he added with an expression of complete prostration:  “Enjoy my suffering; you have succeeded—­I am hurt unto death!”

“Listen to me, Gotzkowsky,” said Ephraim, approaching nearer to him; “I mean well by you.”

“Oh, yes!” said Gotzkowsky, bitterly; “after you have hastened my downfall, you condescend to love me.  Yes, indeed!  I believe in your friendship; for none but a friend would have had the heart to bring such a Job’s message.”