paltry canvas screen surrounded such a stall as a cobbler now occupies, having the front open, much in the manner of a fishmonger’s booth of the present day.  A little old smock-faced man, the very reverse of a Jew in complexion, for he was very soft-haired as well as beardless, appeared, and with many courtesies asked Wayland what he pleased to want.  He had no sooner named the drug, than the Jew started and looked surprised.  “And vat might your vorship vant vith that drug, which is not named, mein God, in forty years as I have been chemist here?”

“These questions it is no part of my commission to answer,” said Wayland; “I only wish to know if you have what I want, and having it, are willing to sell it?”

“Ay, mein God, for having it, that I have, and for selling it, I am a chemist, and sell every drug.”  So saying, he exhibited a powder, and then continued, “But it will cost much moneys.  Vat I ave cost its weight in gold—­ay, gold well-refined—­I vill say six times.  It comes from Mount Sinai, where we had our blessed Law given forth, and the plant blossoms but once in one hundred year.”

“I do not know how often it is gathered on Mount Sinai,” said Wayland, after looking at the drug offered him with great disdain, “but I will wager my sword and buckler against your gaberdine, that this trash you offer me, instead of what I asked for, may be had for gathering any day of the week in the castle ditch of Aleppo.”

“You are a rude man,” said the Jew; “and, besides, I ave no better than that—­or if I ave, I will not sell it without order of a physician, or without you tell me vat you make of it.”

The artist made brief answer in a language of which Tressilian could not understand a word, and which seemed to strike the Jew with the utmost astonishment.  He stared upon Wayland like one who has suddenly recognized some mighty hero or dreaded potentate, in the person of an unknown and unmarked stranger.  “Holy Elias!” he exclaimed, when he had recovered the first stunning effects of his surprise; and then passing from his former suspicious and surly manner to the very extremity of obsequiousness, he cringed low to the artist, and besought him to enter his poor house, to bless his miserable threshold by crossing it.

“Vill you not taste a cup vith the poor Jew, Zacharias Yoglan?—­Vill you Tokay ave?—­vill you Lachrymae taste?—­vill you—­”

“You offend in your proffers,” said Wayland; “minister to me in what I require of you, and forbear further discourse.”

The rebuked Israelite took his bunch of keys, and opening with circumspection a cabinet which seemed more strongly secured than the other cases of drugs and medicines amongst which it stood, he drew out a little secret drawer, having a glass lid, and containing a small portion of a black powder.  This he offered to Wayland, his manner conveying the deepest devotion towards him, though an avaricious and jealous expression, which seemed to grudge every grain of what his customer was about to possess himself, disputed ground in his countenance with the obsequious deference which he desired it should exhibit.