Prometheus, she would dare destiny, and brave its worst! And she
sprang up to recall the letter .... Miriam was gone; and she threw
herself on the floor, and wept bitterly.

And her peace of mind would certainly not have been improved, could
she have seen old Miriam hurry home with her letter to a dingy house
in the Jews' quarter, where it was un-sealed, read, and sealed up
again with such marvellous skill, that no eye could have detected
the change; and finally, still less would she have been comforted
could she have heard the conversation which was going on in a
summer-room of Orestes' palace, between that illustrious statesman
and Raphael Aben-Ezra, who were lying on two divans opposite each
other, whiling away, by a throw or two of dice, the anxious moments
which delayed her answer.

'Trays again! The devil is in you, Raphael!'

'I always thought he was,' answered Raphael, sweeping up the gold
pieces....

'When will that old witch be back?'

'When she has read through your letter and Hypatia's answer.'

'Read them?'

'Of course. You don't fancy she is going to be fool enough to carry
a message without knowing what it is? Don't be angry; she won't
tell. She would give one of those two grave-lights there, which she
calls her eyes, to see the thing prosper.'