“Give me the stone!” interrupted the Arab, who was annoyed by the Jew’s jesting tone; he snatched the emerald from him, weighed it in his hand, put it close to his eyes, held it far off, tapped it with a small hammer that he took out of his breast-pocket, slipped it into its place in the work, examining it keenly, suspiciously, and at last with satisfaction.  During all this, Orion had more than once turned pale, and the sweat broke out on his handsome, pale face.  Had a miracle been wrought here?  How could this gem, which was surely on its way to Alexandria, have found its way into the Jew’s hands?  Or could Chusar have opened the little packet and have sold the emerald to Hiram, and through him to the jeweller?  He must get to the bottom of it, and while the Arab was examining the gem he went up to Gamaliel and asked him:  “Are you positively certain—­it is a matter of freedom or the dungeon—­certain that you had this stone from Hiram the Syrian and from no one else?  I mean, is the man so well-known to you that no mistake is possible?”

“God preserve us!” exclaimed the Jew drawing back a step from Orion, who was gazing at him with a sinister light in his eyes.  “How can my lord doubt it?  Your respected father has known me these thirty years, and do you suppose that I—­I do not know the Syrian?  Why, who in Memphis can stammer to compare with him?  And has he not killed half my children with your wild young horses?—­Half killed every one of my children I mean—­half killed them, I say, with fright.  They are all still alive and well, God preserve them, but none the better for your horsebreaker; for fresh air is good for children and my little Rebecca would stop indoors till he was at home again for fear of his terrifying pranks.”

“Well, well!” Orion broke in.  “And at what hour did he bring you the emerald for sale?  Exactly.  Now, recollect:  when was it?  You surely must remember.”

“Adonai!  How should I?” said the Jew.  “But wait, Sir, perhaps I may be able to tell you.  In this hot weather we are up before sunrise; then we said our prayers and had our morning broth; then. . . .”

“Senseless chatter!” urged Orion.  But Gamaliel went on without allowing himself to be checked.  “Then little Ruth jumped into my lap to pull out the white hairs that will grow under my nose and, just as the child was doing it and I cried out:  ‘Oh, you hurt me!’ the sun fell upon the earth bank on which I was sitting.”

“And at what time does it reach the bank?” cried the young man.

“Exactly two hours after sunrise,” replied the Jew, “at this time of year.  Do me the honor of a visit tomorrow morning; you will not regret it, for I can show you some beautiful, exquisite things—­and you can watch the shadow yourself.”