Give me enough of it, and I will buy his sultana from the king." "This Castell has plenty ?" asked Inez shortly.
"Plenty, and more credit.

He is one of the richest men in England.

But why do you ask?
He would not think of you, who is too troubled about other things." Inez only laughed bitterly, but did not resent the words.

Why should she?
It was not worth while.
"I know," she answered, "but I mean to earn some of it all the same, and I want to be sure that there is enough for all of us." "There is enough, I have told you there is enough and to spare," answered the Hebrew Israel as he tapped on a door in a dirty-looking wall.
It opened as though by magic, and they crossed a paved patio, or courtyard, to a house beyond, a tumble-down place of Moorish architecture.
"Our friend Castell, being in seclusion just now, has hired the cellar floor," said Israel with a chuckle to Inez, "so be pleased to follow me, and take care of the rats and beetles." Then he led her down a rickety stair which opened out of the courtyard into vaults filled with vats of wine, and, having lit a taper, through these, shutting and locking sundry doors behind him, to what appeared to be a very damp wall covered with cobwebs, and situated in a dark corner of a wine-cave.

Here he stopped and tapped again in his peculiar fashion, whereon a portion of the wall turned outwards on a pivot, leaving an opening through which they could pass.
"Well managed, isn't it ?" chuckled Israel.