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"Anything that I can do, I shall be very happy," said Karil Zamenoy, who had risen from his chair to prevent the necessity of having to ask the Jew to sit down. "Herr Zamenoy," began the Jew, "you are, I think, aware that my father has purchased from your friend and brother-in-law, Josef Balatka, certain houses in the Kleinseite, in one of which the old man still lives."
On that evening nothing was said on the subject between him and his father, and on the next morning he started immediately after breakfast for the Ross Markt, in order that he might see Karil Zamenoy, as he had said that he would do. The papers, should he get them, would belong to his father, and would at once be put into his father's hands.
In this frame of mind he went to the Ross Markt, and there he was assured over and over again by Ziska Zamenoy for Karil Zamenoy was not to be seen that Nina Balatka had the deed in her own keeping. The name of Nina Balatka was becoming very grievous to the old man.
He gave me the key, and desired me to fetch him all the papers. He wanted to find a letter which uncle Karil wrote him ever so long ago. In that letter uncle Karil acknowledges that he has the deed." "I do not doubt that in the least." "And what is it you do doubt, Anton?" "I do not say I doubt anything." "Do you doubt me, Anton?"
Nina, indeed, loved none of the Zamenoys neither her cousin Ziska, nor her very Christian aunt Sophie with the bitter tongue, nor her prosperous, money-loving, acutely mercantile uncle Karil; but, nevertheless, she was in some degree so subject to them, that she knew that she was bound to tell them what path in life she meant to tread.
"Only," said Anton, "it is necessary that you should know your own mind." "I do know it," said Nina, eagerly. And she saw Madame Zamenoy no more, nor her uncle Karil, nor her cousin Ziska. Though she lived in the same city with them for three months after the night on which she had been taken to Rebecca's house, she never again was brought into contact with her relations.
There is nothing left but this one that the Jew wants." "And uncle Karil has never given that back?" "Never." "And it should belong to Stephen Trendellsohn?" "Yes, I suppose it should." "Who can wonder, then, that they should be anxious and inquire after it, and make a noise about it? Will not the law make uncle Karil give it up?" "How can the law prove that he has got it?
How this had come to pass needs not to be told here, as it had all occurred in years when Nina was an infant. But in these shiftings Balatka became a ruined man, and at the time of which I write he and his daughter were almost penniless. The reader must know that Karil Zamenoy and Josef Balatka had married sisters.
Karil du Jardin, born in 1625, died in 1678, is a third great Dutch landscape painter, whose fancy Italy laid hold of, so that he settled in the country, dying at Venice. He was, it is said, a pupil of Berchem's, from whom he may have first drawn his Italian proclivities. He has more truth and feeling for animated nature than Berchem. Indeed, in this respect Du Jardin followed Paul Potter.
Karil Zamenoy has the papers, which are in truth mine or my father's which should be here in my iron box." And Trendellsohn, as he spoke, put his hand forcibly on the seat beside him, as though the iron box to which he alluded were within his reach. "I know they are yours," said Nina. "Yes; and without them, should your father die, I could not claim my property.
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