replied the banker fiercely

"Good-morning, Mr. Mordecai. How goes it with you, my friend, this fine morning?" said the judge pleasantly, as he alighted and threw the lines to Cato, the driver.--"Tell your mistress she need not send for me till five o'clock. I shall be very busy to-day." Then turning to the banker he looked for a reply. "It's no good-morning to me," replied the banker fiercely. "The night has brought devilish work to my home." "What do you mean, my friend?" was the judge's quiet reply. "What has the night done?" "Played the devil! Don't you try to trifle with my sorrow. That son of yours has already wrought me injury enough. Don't you attempt to mock me. I warn you, Le Grande, I warn you!" Astonished by these mysterious words of the Hebrew, Judge Le Grande gravely assured Mr. Mordecai that he knew nothing of the trouble that had befallen him, and repeatedly asked, "What has my son done?" "Done? Alas! he has done that which would to God I could undo!" was the reply, uttered angrily and savagely. "But as I cannot undo it, I shall curse it-curse it from the depths of my soul! He has married my daughter? Stolen her-taken her away in secret from my house, and they have wisely fled from my presence!" "Married your daughter!" ejaculated the judge, the truth faintly dawning on him. "Surely that's a mistake." "Indeed it is a wild mistake; I would to God it were otherwise." "By what authority do you make this assertion?" continued Judge Le Grande, evidently aroused by the dawning truth. "By the confession of my daughter, left in her room, and written a short time before her flight." "Where is that confession? Let me see it." "Here," replied the banker, drawing the crumpled missive from his pocket. "There, read the mischief for yourself." With trembling hand Judge Le Grande smoothed out the crushed paper, and eagerly, fearfully, scanned the contents that were to crush his hopes, as they had crushed those of the banker. Silently, carefully, he read it, read it till the story was told, and then, brushing away a tear from his eye he said, with emotion: "Mordecai, forgive her! Forgive her, as I shall forgive him; and now that it is done, let us make the best of it." "Forgive!" hissed the banker; "forgive such an act of disobedience as that? Such disgrace to my name and people? Never, while there is a drop of Hebrew blood in Benjamin Mordecai's veins, will I forgive it!"