“I thought of it again too, and if any one would tell the what it was, I should know what to wish now.  I would not have a single human being in the world except you and me, and my father and mother.”

“And my little mother!” added Ulrich, earnestly.

“And your father, too!”

“Why, of course, he, too!” said the boy, as if to make hasty atonement for his neglect.

CHAPTER V.

The sun was shining brightly on the little windows of the Israelite’s sitting-room, which were half open to admit the Spring air, though lightly shaded with green curtains, for Costa liked a subdued light, and was always careful to protect his apartment from the eyes of passers-by.

There was nothing remarkable to be seen, for the walls were whitewashed, and their only ornament was a garland of lavender leaves, whose perfume Ruth’s mother liked to inhale.  The whole furniture consisted of a chest, several stools, a bench covered with cushions, a table, and two plain wooden arm-chairs.

One of the latter had long been the scene of Adam’s happiest hours, for he used to sit in it when he played chess with Costa.

He had sometimes looked on at the noble game while in Nuremberg; but the doctor understood it thoroughly, and had initiated him into all its rules.

For the first two years Costa had remained far in advance of his pupil, then he was compelled to defend himself in good earnest, and now it not unfrequently happened that the smith vanquished the scholar.  True, the latter was much quicker than the former, who if the situation became critical, pondered over it an unconscionably long time.

Two hands more unlike had rarely met over a chess-board; one suggested a strong, dark ploug-ox, the other a light, slender-limbed palfrey.  The Israelite’s figure looked small in contrast with the smith’s gigantic frame.  How coarse-grained, how heavy with thought the German’s big, fair head appeared, how delicately moulded and intellectual the Portuguese Jew’s.

To-day the two men had again sat down to the game, but instead of playing, had been talking very, very earnestly.  In the course of the conversation the doctor had left his place and was pacing restlessly to and fro.  Adam retained his seat.

His friend’s arguments had convinced him.  Ulrich was to be sent to the monastery-school.  Costa had also been informed of the danger that threatened his own person, and was deeply agitated.  The peril was great, very great, yet it was hard, cruelly hard, to quit this peaceful nook.  The smith understood what was passing in his mind, and said: 

“It is hard for you to go.  What binds you here to the Richtberg?”

“Peace, peace!” cried the other.  “And then,” he added more calmly, “I have gained land here.”

“You?”

“The large and small graves behind the executioner’s house, they are my estates.”