“Ah, Rebecca, and you will give it to me?” asked Gabriel, seizing both her hands and looking into her lovely face with beaming eyes.

She slowly and solemnly shook her head.  “You are a Christian,” she said.  “I have sworn to my father that no Christian should touch the precious treasure, that no hands but my own should apply the remedy he intrusted to me.  Gabriel, out of love for me you gave the Prince into the jaws of death.  Out of love for you I shall restore him to life.”

“Rebecca!” he cried, “how will you do it—­how can you accomplish it?  Only from your hands the Prince is to receive life?  That means, you will yourself apply the remedy?  You will go to him?  You would return to the city, venture into the castle?  Know you not that Schwarzenberg has his spies everywhere; that every lackey in the castle is bribed by him and in his interests; that he knows what happens there night and day?  Do you not know that, Rebecca?  Did you not yourself often tell me so, when you visited the castellan’s wife, who loved you, because she, too, was a Venetian, and could speak her native language with you.  Did she not tell you in confidence that Count Schwarzenberg was her real lord and master, and that she herself every morning repeated to the count’s secretary all that came under her observation in the castle?  And now would you venture into that castle, that den of lions!”

“Did not Daniel venture into the lion’s den, and the wild beasts touched him not?” cried she.  “Why should I fear, since my work is holy and pure as Daniel’s was?”

“I shall not suffer it.  I shall cling to you and hold you back.”

“Gabriel Nietzel, bethink you of the oath you swore upon our child’s head.  You will do what I require of you!  This you swore.  Will you break your oath?”

“No, Rebecca,” he said mournfully.  “Command—­I shall obey.”

“I shall return to the city,” continued Rebecca.  “Old Benjamin Cohen will hospitably entertain me and provide me with a safe hiding place.  By night I shall go to the castle, and make sure that no one will detain me, no one will recognize me, and that Count Schwarzenberg’s spies shall not report that Rebecca Nietzel was in the castle and in the Prince’s room.  The dress which I shall assume will be a certain protection; trust to me and ask no questions.  I know every door and inlet to the castle, for the castellan’s wife often showed me through the palace, and stairs and corridors, secret doors and passages are all familiar to me.  I know a little door on the Spree side, which is never locked, because nobody knows of its existence, or would regard it, for it only leads to a little niche; and that a secret door is concealed within this niche, not even the castellan’s wife herself knows.  I discovered it one day, when I had lost my way in the castle, and was wandering in distress through the corridors.  I said nothing about my discovery, and now I shall profit by it to