"Silence, you young wanton!" he cried, in a voice of indignation.

"Who are you, that you dare trample on the man in his trouble ?" It turned out that the girl was the man's daughter, and he was a renegade from Ceuta.

And when she had gone off, cursing Israel and his father and his grandfather, the poor fellow lifted his eyes to Israel's face, and said, "You are very kind, my father.

God bless you! I may not be a good man, sir, and I've not lived a right life, but it's hard when your own children are taught to despise you.

Better to lose them in their cradles, before they can speak to you to curse you." Israel's hair seemed to rise from his scalp at that word, and he turned about and hurried away.