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diff --git a/22663-h/22663-h.htm b/22663-h/22663-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8eb2476 --- /dev/null +++ b/22663-h/22663-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2039 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + A Ghetto Violet, by Leopold Kompert + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Ghetto Violet, by Leopold Kompert + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Ghetto Violet + From "Christian and Leah" + +Author: Leopold Kompert + +Translator: A. S. Arnold + +Release Date: September 18, 2007 [EBook #22663] +Last Updated: March 15, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GHETTO VIOLET *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A GHETTO VIOLET + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Leopold Kompert + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + From “Christian and Leah.” Translated by A. S. Arnold. <br /> <br /> 1869 + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Through the open window came the clear trill of a canary singing blithely + in its cage. Within the tidy, homely little room a pale-faced girl and a + youth of slender frame listened intently while the bird sang its song. The + girl was the first to break the silence. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim, my brother!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, dear Viola?” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder does the birdie know that it is the Sabbath to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “What a child you are!” answered Ephraim. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that 's always the way; when you clever men can't explain a thing, + you simply dismiss the question by calling it childish,” Viola exclaimed, + as though quite angry. “And, pray, why should n't the bird know? The whole + week it scarcely sang a note: to-day it warbles and warbles so that it + makes my head ache. And what's the reason? Every Sabbath it's just the + same, I notice it regularly. Shall I tell you what my idea is? + </p> + <p> + “The whole week long the little bird looks into our room and sees nothing + but the humdrum of work-a-day life. To-day it sees the bright rays of the + Sabbath lamp and the white Sabbath cloth upon the table. Don't you think I + 'm right, Ephraim?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, dear Viola,” said Ephraim, and he went to the cage. + </p> + <p> + The bird's song suddenly ceased. + </p> + <p> + “Now you 've spoilt its Sabbath!” cried the girl, and she was so excited + that the book which had been lying upon her lap fell to the ground. + </p> + <p> + Ephraim turned towards her; he looked at her solemnly, and said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Pick up your prayer-book first, and then I 'll answer. A holy book should + not be on the ground like that. Had our mother dropped her prayer-book, + she would have kissed it.... Kiss it, Viola, my child!” + </p> + <p> + Viola did so. + </p> + <p> + “And now I 'll tell you, dear Viola, what I think is the reason why the + bird sings so blithely to-day.... Of course, I don't say I 'm right.” + </p> + <p> + Viola's brown eyes were fixed inquiringly upon her brother's face. + </p> + <p> + “How seriously you talk to-day,” she said, making a feeble attempt at a + smile. “I was only joking. Must n't I ask if the bird knows anything about + the Sabbath?” + </p> + <p> + “There are subjects it is sinful to joke about, and this may be one of + them, Viola.” + </p> + <p> + “You really quite frighten me, Ephraim.” + </p> + <p> + “You little goose, I don't want to frighten you,” said Ephraim, while a + faint flush suffused his features. “I 'll tell you my opinion about the + singing of the bird. I think, dear Viola, that our little canary knows... + that before long it will change its quarters.” + </p> + <p> + “You 're surely not going to sell it or give it away?” cried the girl, in + great alarm; and springing to her feet, she quickly drew her brother away + from the cage. + </p> + <p> + “No, I 'm not going to sell it nor give it away,” said Ephraim, whose + quiet bearing contrasted strongly with his sister's excitement “Is it + likely that I should do anything that would give you pain? And yet, I have + but to say one word... and I 'll wager that you will be the first to open + the cage and say to the bird, 'Fly, fly away, birdie, fly away home!'” + </p> + <p> + “Never, never!” cried the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Viola,” said Ephraim beseechingly, “I have taken a vow. Surely you would + not have me break it?” + </p> + <p> + “A vow?” asked his sister. + </p> + <p> + “Viola,” Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the girl's face, + “I have vowed to myself that whenever he... our father... should return, I + would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free, free as he will + be.” + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim!” + </p> + <p> + “He is coming—he is already on his way home.” + </p> + <p> + Viola flung her arms round her brother's neck. For a long time brother and + sister remained locked in a close embrace. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the bird resumed its jubilant song. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear how it sings again?” said Ephraim; and he gently stroked his + sister's hair. “It knows that it will soon be free.” + </p> + <p> + “A father out of jail!” sobbed Viola, as she released herself from her + brother's arms. + </p> + <p> + “He has had his punishment, dear Viola!” said Ephraim softly. + </p> + <p> + Viola turned away. There was a painful silence, and then she looked up at + her brother again. Her face was aglow, her eyes sparkled with a strange + fire; she was trembling with agitation. + </p> + <p> + Never before had Ephraim seen her thus. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim, my brother,” she commenced, in that measured monotone so + peculiar to intense emotion, “with the bird you can do as you please. You + can set it free, or, if you like, you can wring its neck. But as for him, + I 'll never look in his face again, from me he shall not have a word of + welcome. He broke our mother's heart... our good, good mother; he has + dishonored himself and us. And I can never forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it right for a child to talk like that of her own father?” said + Ephraim in a tremulous voice. + </p> + <p> + “When a child has good cause to be ashamed of her own father!” cried + Viola. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my Viola, you must have forgotten dear mother's dying words. Don't + you remember, as she opened her eyes for the last time, how she gathered + up her failing strength, and raising herself in her bed, 'Children,' she + said, 'my memory will protect you both, yea, and your father too.' Viola, + have you forgotten?” + </p> + <p> + Had you entered that little room an hour later, a touching sight would + have met your eyes. Viola was seated on her brother's knee, her arms round + his neck, whilst Ephraim with the gentle love of a brother for a younger + sister, was stroking her hair, and whispering in her ear sweet words of + solace. + </p> + <p> + The bird-cage was empty.... That evening Ephraim sat up till midnight. + Outside in the Ghetto reigned the stillness of night. + </p> + <p> + All at once Ephraim rose from his chair, walked to the old bureau which + stood near the door, opened it, and took from it a bulky volume, which he + laid upon the table in front of him. But he did not seem at all bent upon + reading. He began fingering the pages, until he came upon a bundle of + bank-notes, and these he proceeded to count, with a whispering movement of + his lips. He had but three or four more notes still to count, when his + sharp ear detected the sound of stealthy footsteps, in the little + courtyard in front of the house. Closing the book, and hastily putting it + back again in the old bureau, Ephraim sprang to the window and opened it. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, father?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. + </p> + <p> + Ephraim repeated his question. + </p> + <p> + He strained his eyes, peering into the dense darkness, but no living thing + could he see. Then quite close to him a voice cried: “Make no noise... and + first put out the light.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! Father, it is you then...!” Ephraim exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” came in a whisper from without, “first put out the light.” + </p> + <p> + Ephraim closed the window, and extinguished the light Then, with almost + inaudible step, he walked out of the room into the dark passage; + noiselessly he proceeded to unbolt the street-door. Almost at the same + moment a heavy hand clasped his own. + </p> + <p> + “Father, father!” Ephraim cried, trying to raise his parent's hand to his + lips. + </p> + <p> + “Make no noise,” the man repeated, in a somewhat commanding tone. + </p> + <p> + With his father's hand in his, cautiously feeling his way, Ephraim led him + into the room. In the room adjoining lay Viola, sleeping peacefully.... + </p> + <p> + Time was when “Wild” Ascher's welcome home had been far otherwise. + Eighteen years before, upon that very threshold which he now crossed with + halting, stealthy steps, as of a thief in the night, stood a fair and + loving wife, holding a sturdy lad aloft in her arms, so that the father + might at once see, as he turned the street corner, that wife and child + were well and happy. Not another Ghetto in all Bohemia could show a + handsomer and happier couple than Ascher and his wife. “Wild” Ascher was + one of those intrepid, venturesome spirits, to whom no obstacle is so + great that it cannot be surmounted. And the success which crowned his + long, persistent wooing was often cited as striking testimony to his + indomitable will. Gudule was famous throughout the Ghetto as “the girl + with the wonderful eyes,” eyes—so the saying ran—into which no + man could look and think of evil. During the earlier years of their + married life those unfathomable brown eyes exercised on Ascher the full + power of their fascination. A time came, however, when he alleged that + those very eyes had been the cause of all his ruin. + </p> + <p> + Gudule's birthplace was far removed from the Ghetto, where Ascher had + first seen the light. Her father was a wealthy farmer in a secluded + village in Lower Bohemia. But distant though it was from the nearest town + of any importance, the solitary grange became the centre of attraction to + all the young swains far and near. But there was none who found favor in + Gudule's eyes save “Wild Ascher,” in spite of many a friendly warning to + beware of him. One day, just before the betrothal of the young people, an + anonymous letter was delivered at the grange. The writer, who called + himself an old friend, entreated the farmer to prevent his dear child from + becoming the wife of one who was suspected of being a gambler. The farmer + was of an easy-going, indulgent nature, shunning care and anxiety as a + very plague. Accordingly, no sooner had he read the anonymous missive than + he handed it to his daughter, as though its contents were no concern of + his. + </p> + <p> + When Gudule had read the letter to the end, she merely remarked: “Father, + this concerns me, and nobody else.” + </p> + <p> + And so the matter dropped. + </p> + <p> + Not until the wedding-day, half an hour before the ceremony, when the + marriage canopy had already been erected in the courtyard, did the farmer + sum up courage to revert to the warning of the unknown letter-writer. + Taking his future son-in-law aside, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Ascher, is it true that you gamble?” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” Ascher answered with equal firmness, “Gudule's eyes will save + me!” Ascher had uttered no untruth when he gave his father-in-law this + assurance. He spoke in all earnestness, for like every one else he knew + the magnetic power of Gudule's eyes. + </p> + <p> + Nowhere, probably, does the grim, consuming pestilence of gaming claim + more victims than in the Ghetto. The ravages of drink and debauchery are + slight indeed; but the tortuous streets can show too many a humble home + haunted by the spectres of ruin and misery which stalked across the + threshold when the <i>first card game</i> was played. + </p> + <p> + It was with almost feverish anxiety that the eyes of the Ghetto were fixed + upon the development of a character like Ascher's; they followed his every + step with the closest attention. Long experience had taught the Ghetto + that no gambler could be trusted. + </p> + <p> + As though conscious that all eyes were upon him, Ascher showed himself + most punctilious in the discharge of even the minutest of communal duties + which devolved upon him as a denizen of the Ghetto, and his habits of life + were almost ostentatiously regular and decorous. His business had + prospered, and Gudule had borne him a son. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Gudule, my child,” the farmer asked his daughter on the day when + his grandson was received into the covenant of Abraham,—“well, + Gudule, was the letter right?” + </p> + <p> + “What letter?” asked Gudule. + </p> + <p> + “That in which your husband was called a gambler.” + </p> + <p> + “And can you still give a thought to such a letter?” was Gudule's + significant reply. + </p> + <p> + Three years later, Gudule's father came to visit her. This time she showed + him his second grandchild, her little Viola. He kissed the children, and + round little Viola's neck clasped three rows of pearls, “that the child + may know it had a grandfather once.” + </p> + <p> + “And where are your pearls, Gudule?” he asked, “those left you by your + mother,—may she rest in peace! She always set such store by them.” + </p> + <p> + “Those, father?” Gudule replied, turning pale; “oh, my husband has taken + them to a goldsmith in Prague. They require a new clasp.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” remarked her father. Notwithstanding his limited powers of + observation, it did not escape the old man's eyes that Gudule looked + alarmingly wan and emaciated. He saw it, and it grieved his very soul. He + said nothing however: only, when leaving, and after he had kissed the <i>Mezuza</i>* + he said to Gudule (who, with little Viola in her arms, went with him to + the door), in a voice quivering with suppressed emotion: “Gudule, my + child, the pearl necklet which I have given your little Viola has a clasp + strong enough to last a hundred years... you need never, therefore, give + it to your husband to have a new clasp made for it.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Small cylinder inclosing a roll of parchment inscribed + with the Hebrew word <i>Shadai</i> (Almighty) and with other + texts, which is affixed to the lintel of every Jewish house. +</pre> + <p> + And without bestowing another glance upon his child the easy-going man + left the house. It was his last visit. Within the year Gudule received a + letter from her eldest brother telling her that their father was dead, and + that she would have to keep the week of mourning for him. Ever since his + last visit to her—her brother wrote—the old man had been + somewhat ailing, but knowing his vigorous constitution, they had paid + little heed to his complaints. It was only during the last few weeks that + a marked loss of strength had been noticed. This was followed by fever and + delirium. Whenever he was asked whether he would not like to see Gudule, + his only answer was: “She must not give away the clasp of little Viola's + necklet.” And but an hour before his death, he raised his voice, and + loudly called for “the letter.” Nobody knew what letter. “Gudule knows + where it is,” he said, with a gentle shake of his head. Those were the + last words he spoke. + </p> + <p> + Had the old man's eyes deceived him on the occasion of his last visit to + his son-in-law's house? No! For, setting aside the incident of the missing + pearls, the whole Ghetto could long since have told him that the warning + of the anonymous letter was not unfounded—for Gudule was the wife of + a gambler. + </p> + <p> + With the resistless impetuosity of a torrent released from its prison of + ice and snow, the old invincible disease had again overwhelmed its victim. + Gudule noticed the first signs of it when one day her husband returned + home from one of his business journeys earlier than he had arranged. + Gudule had not expected him. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not come to meet me with the children?” he cried peevishly; + “do you begrudge me even that pleasure?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> begrudge you a pleasure?” Gudule ventured to remark, as she + raised her swimming eyes to his face. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you look at me so tearfully?” he almost shouted. + </p> + <p> + Ascher loved his wife, and when he saw the effect which his rough words + had produced, he tenderly embraced her. “Am I not right, Gudule?” he said, + “after a man has been working and slaving the livelong week, don't you + think he looks forward with longing eyes for his dear children to welcome + him at his door?” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Gudule felt the long latent suspicion revive in her that + her husband was not speaking the truth. As if written in characters of + fire, the words of that letter now came back to her memory; she knew now + what was the fate that awaited her and her children. + </p> + <p> + Thenceforward, all the characteristic tokens of a gambler's life, all the + vicissitudes which attend his unholy calling, followed close upon each + other in grim succession. Most marked was the disturbance which his mental + equilibrium was undergoing. Fits of gloomy despondency were succeeded, + with alarming rapidity, by periods of tumultuous exaltation. One moment it + would seem as though Gudule and the children were to him the living + embodiment of all that was precious and lovable, whilst at other times he + would regard them with sullen indifference. It soon became evident to + Gudule that her husband's affairs were in a very bad way, for her + housekeeping allowance no longer came to her with its wonted regularity. + But what grieved and alarmed her most, was the fact that Ascher was openly + neglecting every one of his religious duties. To return home late on + Friday night, long after sunset had ushered in the Sabbath, was now a + common practice. Once even it happened, that with his clothes covered with + dust, he came home from one of his business tours on a Sabbath morning, + when the people in holiday attire were wending their way to the synagogue. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, not a sound of complaint escaped Gudule's lips. Hers was one + of those proud, sensitive natures, such as are to be met with among all + classes and amid all circumstances of life, in Ghetto and in secluded + village, no less than among the most favored ones of the earth. Had she + not cast to the winds the well-intentioned counsel given her in that + unsigned letter? Why then should she complain and lament, now that the + seed had borne fruit? She shrank from alluding before her husband to the + passion which day by day, nay, hour by hour, tightened its hold upon him. + She would have died sooner than permit the word “gambler” to pass her + lips. Besides, did not her eyes tell Ascher what she suffered? Those very + eyes were, according to Ascher, the cause of his rapid journey along the + road to ruin. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you look at me so, Gudule?” he would testily ask her, at the + slightest provocation. + </p> + <p> + Often when, as he explained, he had had “a specially good week,” he would + bring home the costliest gifts for his children. Gudule, however, made no + use whatever of these trinkets, neither for herself nor for the children. + She put the things away in drawers and cupboards, and never looked at + them, more especially as she observed that, under some pretext or another, + Ascher generally took those glittering things away again, “in order to + exchange them for others,” he said: as often as not never replacing them + at all. + </p> + <p> + “Gudule!” he said one day, when he happened to be in a particularly good + humor, “why do you let the key remain in the door of that bureau where you + keep so many valuables?” + </p> + <p> + And again Gudule regarded him with those unfathomable eyes. + </p> + <p> + “There, you 're... looking at me again!” he exclaimed with sudden + vehemence. + </p> + <p> + “They 're safe enough in the cupboard,” Gudule said, smiling, “why should + I lock it?” + </p> + <p> + “Gudule, do you mean to say...” he cried, raising his hand as for a blow. + Then he fell back in his chair, and his frame was shaken with sobs. + </p> + <p> + “Gudule, my heart's love,” he cried, “I am not worthy that your eyes + should rest on me. Everywhere, wherever I go, they look at me, those + eyes... and that is my ruin. If business is bad, your eyes ask me, 'Why + did you mix yourself up with these things, without a thought of wife or + children?'... Then I feel as if some evil spirit possessed me and tortured + my soul. Oh, why can't you look at me again as you did when you were my + bride?—then you looked so happy, so lovely! At other times I think: + 'I shall yet grasp fortune with both hands... and then I can face my + Gudule's eyes again.' But now, now... oh, don't look at me, Gudule!” + </p> + <p> + There spoke the self-reproaching voice, which sometimes burst forth + unbidden from a suffering soul. + </p> + <p> + As for Gudule, she already knew how to appreciate this cry of her + husband's conscience at its true value. It was not that she felt one + moment's doubt as to its sincerity, but she knew that so far as it + affected the future, it was a mere cry and nothing more. + </p> + <p> + The years rolled on. The children were growing up. Ephraim had entered his + fifteenth year. Viola was a little pale girl of twelve. In the opinion of + the Ghetto they were the most extraordinary children in the world. In the + midst of the harassing life to which her marriage with the gambler had + brought her, Gudule so reared them that they grew to be living reflections + of her own inmost being. People wondered when they beheld the strange + development of “Wild” Ascher's children. + </p> + <p> + Their natures were as proud and reserved as that of their mother. They did + not associate with the youth of the Ghetto; it seemed as though they were + not of their kind, as though an insurmountable barrier divided them. And + many a bitter sneer was hurled at Gudule's head. + </p> + <p> + “Does she imagine,” she often heard people whisper, “that because her + father was a farmer her children are princes? Let her remember that her + husband is but a common gambler.” + </p> + <p> + How different would have been their thoughts had they known that the + children were Gudule's sole comfort. What their father had never heard + from her, she poured into their youthful souls. No tear their mother shed + was unobserved by them; they knew when their father had lost, and when he + had won; they knew, too, all the varying moods of his unhinged mind; and + in this terrible school of misery they acquired an instinctive + intelligence, which in the eyes of strangers seemed mere precocity. + </p> + <p> + The two children, however, had early given evidence of a marked difference + in disposition. Ephraim's nature was one of an almost feminine gentleness, + whilst Viola was strong-willed and proudly reserved. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” she said one day, “do you think he will continue to play much + longer?” + </p> + <p> + “Viola, how can you talk like that?” Ephraim cried, greatly disturbed. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Viola impetuously flung her arms round her mother's neck, and + for some moments she clung to her with all the strength of her passionate + nature. It was as though in that wild embrace she would fain pour forth + the long pent-up sorrows of her blighted childhood. + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” she cried, “you are so good to him. Never, never shall he have + such kindness from me!” + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim,” said Gudule, “speak to your sister. In her sinful anger, Viola + would revenge herself upon her own father. Does it so beseem a Jewish + child?” + </p> + <p> + “Why does he treat you so cruelly, then?” Viola almost hissed the words. + </p> + <p> + Soon after fell the final crushing blow. Ascher had been away from home + for some weeks, when one day Gudule received a letter, dated from a prison + in the neighborhood of Vienna. + </p> + <p> + In words of genuine sympathy the writer explained that Ascher had been + unfortunate enough to forge the signature to a bill. She would not see him + again for the next five years. God comfort her! The letter was signed: “A + fellow-sufferer with your husband.” + </p> + <p> + As it had been with her old father, after he had bidden her a last + farewell, so it was now with Gudule. From that moment her days were + numbered, and although not a murmur escaped her lips, hour by hour she + wasted away. + </p> + <p> + One Friday evening, shortly after the seven-branched Sabbath lamp had been + lit, Gudule, seated in her arm-chair, out of which she had not moved all + day, called the two children to her. A bright smile hovered around her + lips, an unwonted fire burned in her still beautiful eyes, her bosom + heaved... in the eyes of her children she seemed strangely changed. + “Children,” said she, “come and stand by me. Ephraim, you stand here on my + right, and you, dear Viola, on my left. I would like to tell you a little + story, such as they tell little children to soothe them to sleep. Shall + I?” + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” they both cried, as they bent towards her. + </p> + <p> + “You must not interrupt me, children,” she observed, still with that + strange smile on her lips, “but leave me to tell my little story in my own + way. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, children,” she resumed, after a brief pause. “Every human being—be + he ever so wicked—if he have done but a single good deed on earth, + will, when he arrives above, in the seventh heaven, get his <i>Sechûs</i>, + that is to say, the memory of the good he has done here below will be + remembered and rewarded bountifully by the Almighty.” Gudule ceased + speaking. Suddenly a change came over her features: her breath came and + went in labored gasps; but her brown eyes still gleamed brightly. + </p> + <p> + In tones well-nigh inaudible she continued: “When Jerusalem, the Holy + City, was destroyed, the dead rose up out of their graves... the holy + patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob... and also Moses, and Aaron his + brother... and David the King... and prostrating themselves before God's + throne they sobbed: 'Dost Thou not remember the deeds we have done?... + Wouldst Thou now utterly destroy all these our children, even to the + innocent babe at the breast?' But the Almighty was inexorable. + </p> + <p> + “Then Sarah, our mother, approached the Throne... When God beheld her, He + covered His face, and wept. 'Go,' said He, 'I cannot listen to thee.'... + But she exclaimed... 'Dost Thou no longer remember the tears I shed before + I gave birth to my Joseph and Benjamin... and dost Thou not remember the + day when they buried me yonder, on the borders of the Promised Land... and + now, must mine eyes behold the slaughter of my children, their disgrace, + and their captivity?'... Then God cried: 'For <i>thy</i> sake will I + remember thy children and spare them.'...” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to know,” Gudule suddenly cried, with uplifted voice, + “what this <i>Sechûs</i> is like? It has the form of an angel, and it + stands near the Throne of the Almighty.... But, since the days of Rachel, + our mother, it is the <i>Sechûs</i> of a mother that finds most favor in + God's eyes. When a mother dies, her soul straightway soars heavenward, and + there it takes its place amid the others. + </p> + <p> + “'Who art thou?' asks God, 'I am the <i>Sechûs</i> of a mother,' is the + answer, 'of a mother who has left children behind her on earth.' 'Then do + thou stand here and keep guard over them!' says God. And when it is well + with the children, it is the <i>Sechûs</i> of a mother which has caused + them to prosper, and when evil days befall them... it is again the Angel + who stands before God and pleads: 'Dost Thou forget that these children no + longer have a mother?'... and the evil is averted....” + </p> + <p> + Gudule's voice had sunk to a mere whisper. Her eyes closed, her head fell + back, her breathing became slower and more labored. “Are you still there, + children?” she softly whispered. + </p> + <p> + Anxiously they bent over her. Then once again she opened her eyes, “I see + you still”—the words came with difficulty from her blanched lips—“you, + Ephraim, and you, my little Viola.... I am sure my <i>Sechûs</i> will + plead for you... for you and your father.” They were Gudule's last words. + When her children, whose eyes had never as yet been confronted with Death, + called her by her name, covering her icy hands with burning kisses, their + mother was no more.... + </p> + <p> + Who can tell what influence causes the downtrodden blade to raise itself + once more! Is it the vivifying breath of the west wind, or a mysterious + power sent forth from the bosom of Mother Earth? It was a touching sight + to see how those two children, crushed as they were beneath the weight of + a twofold blow, raised their heads again, and in their very desolation + found new-born strength. And it filled the Ghetto with wonder. For what + were they but the offspring of a gambler? Or was it the spirit of Gudule, + their mother, that lived in them? + </p> + <p> + After Gudule's death, her eldest brother, the then owner of the grange, + came over to discuss the future of his sister's children. He wished + Ephraim and Viola to go with him to his home in Lower Bohemia, where he + could find them occupation. The children, however, were opposed to the + idea. They had taken no previous counsel together, yet, upon this point, + both were in perfect accord,—they would prefer to be left in their + old home. + </p> + <p> + “When father comes back again,” said Eph-raim, “he must know where to find + us. But to you, Uncle Gabriel, he would never come.” + </p> + <p> + The uncle then insisted that Viola at least should accompany him, for he + had daughters at home whom she could assist in their duties in the house + and on the farm. But the child clung to Ephraim, and with flaming eyes, + and in a voice of proud disdain, which filled the simple farmer with + something like terror, she cried: + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, you have enough to do to provide for your own daughters; don't let + <i>me</i> be an additional burden upon you; besides, sooner would I wander + destitute through the world than be separated from my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you propose to do then?” exclaimed the uncle, after he had + somewhat recovered from his astonishment at Viola's vehemence. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Uncle Gabriel,” said Ephraim, a sudden flush overspreading his + grief-stricken features, “you see I have thought about it, and I have come + to the conclusion that this is the best plan. Viola shall keep house, and + I... I 'll start a business.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i> start a business?” cried the uncle with a loud laugh. “Perhaps + you can tell me what price I 'll get for my oats next market day? A + business!... and <i>what</i> business, my lad?” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle,” said Ephraim, “if I dispose of all that is left us, I shall have + enough money to buy a small business. Others in our position have done the + same... and then...” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and then?” the uncle cried, eagerly anticipating his answer. + </p> + <p> + “Then the <i>Sechûs</i> of our mother will come to our aid,” Ephraim said + softly. + </p> + <p> + The farmer's eyes grew dim with moisture; his sister had been very dear to + him. + </p> + <p> + “As I live!” he cried, brushing his hand across his eyes, “you are true + children of my sister Gudule. That's all <i>I</i> can say.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as though moved by a sudden impulse, he quickly produced, from the + depths of his overcoat, a heavy pocketbook. “There!”... he cried, + well-nigh out of breath, “there are a hundred gulden for you, Ephraim. + With that you can, at all events, make a start; and then you need n't sell + the few things you still have. There... put the money away... oats have + n't fetched any price at all to-day, 't is true; but for the sake of + Gudule's children, I don't mind what I do... Come, put it away, Ephraim... + and may God bless you, and make you prosper.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle!” cried Ephraim, as he raised the farmer's hand to his lips, “is + all this to be mine? All this?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my boy, yes; it <i>is</i> a deal of money is n't it?”... said + Gudule's brother, accompanying his words with a sounding slap on his + massive thigh. “I should rather think it is. With that you can do + something, at all events... and shall I tell you something? In Bohemia the + oat crop is, unfortunately, very bad this season. But in Moravia it's + splendid, and is two groats cheaper.... So there's your chance, Ephraim, + my child; you 've got the money, buy!” All at once a dark cloud overspread + his smiling face. + </p> + <p> + “It's a lot of money, Ephraim, that I am giving you... many a merchant + can't lay his hands on it,” he said, hesitatingly; “but if... you were + to... gam—” + </p> + <p> + The word remained unfinished, for upon his arm he suddenly felt a + sensation as of a sharp, pricking needle. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Gabriel!” cried Viola—for it was she who had gripped his arm—and + the child's cheeks were flaming, whilst her lips curled with scorn, and + her white teeth gleamed like those of a beast of prey. “Uncle Gabriel!” + she almost shrieked, “if you don't trust Ephraim, then take your money + back again... it's only because you are our mother's brother that we + accept it from you at all.... Ephraim shall repay you to the last + farthing.... Ephraim doesn't gamble... you sha 'n't lose a single penny of + it.” + </p> + <p> + With a shake of his head the farmer regarded the strange child. He felt + something like annoyance rise within him; an angry word rose to the lips + of the usually good tempered man. But it remained unsaid; he was unable to + remove his eyes from the child's face. + </p> + <p> + “As I live,” he muttered, “she has Gudule's very eyes.” + </p> + <p> + And with another thumping slap on his leg, he merrily exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “All right, we'll leave it so then.... If Ephraim does n't repay me, I 'll + take <i>you</i>, you wild thing... for you've stood surety for your + brother, and then I 'll take you away, and keep you with me at home. Do + you agree... you little spit-fire, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, uncle!” cried Viola. + </p> + <p> + “Then give me a kiss, Viola.” + </p> + <p> + The child hesitated for a moment, then she laid her cheek upon her uncle's + face. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, now I 've got you, you little spit-fire,” he cried, kissing her again + and again. “Are n't you ashamed now to have snapped your uncle up like + that?” + </p> + <p> + Then after giving Ephraim some further information about the present price + of oats, and the future prospects of the crops, with a side-shot at the + chances of wool, skins, and other merchandise, he took his leave. + </p> + <p> + There was great surprise in the Ghetto when the barely fifteen-year-old + lad made his first start in business. Many made merry over “the great + merchant,” but before the year was ended, the sharp-seeing eyes of the + Ghetto saw that Ephraim had “a lucky hand.” Whatever he undertook he + followed up with a calmness and tact which often baffled the restless + activity of many a big dealer, with all his cuteness and trickery. + Whenever Ephraim, with his pale, sad face, made his appearance at a + farmstead, to negotiate for the purchase of wool, or some such matter, it + seemed as though some invisible messenger had gone before him to soften + the hearts of the farmers. “No one ever gets things as cheap as you do,” + he was assured by many a farmer's wife, who had been won by the + unconscious eloquence of his dark eyes. No longer did people laugh at “the + little merchant,” for nothing so quickly kills ridicule as success. + </p> + <p> + When, two years later, his Uncle Gabriel came again to see how the + children were getting on, Ephraim was enabled to repay, in hard cash, the + money he had lent him. + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” cried Gudule's brother, with big staring eyes, as he clutched his + legs with both hands, “how have you managed in so short a time to save so + much? D' ye know that that 's a great deal of money?” + </p> + <p> + “I 've had good luck, uncle,” said Ephraim, modestly. + </p> + <p> + “You 've been... playing, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + The words fell bluntly from the rough countryman, but hardly had they been + uttered, when Viola sprang from her chair, as though an adder had stung + her. “Uncle,” she cried, and a small fist hovered before Gabriel's eyes in + such a threatening manner that he involuntarily closed them. But the + child, whose features reminded him so strongly of his dead sister, could + not make him angry. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim,” he exclaimed, in a jocund tone, warding off Viola with his + hands, “you take my advice. Take this little spit-fire with you into the + village one day... they may want a young she-wolf there.” Then he pocketed + the money. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ephraim,” said he, “may God bless you, and grant you further luck. + But you won't blame me if I take the money,—I can do with it, and in + oats, as you know, there's some chance of good business just now. But I am + glad to see that you 're so prompt at paying. Never give too much credit! + That 's always my motto; trust means ruin, and eats up a man's business, + as rats devour the contents of a corn-barn.” + </p> + <p> + There was but one thing that constantly threw its dark shadow across these + two budding lives,—it was the dark figure in a distant prison. This + it was that saddened the souls of the two children with a gloom which no + sunshine could dispel. When on Fridays Ephraim returned, fatigued and + weary from his work, to the home over which Viola presided with such + pathetic housewifely care, no smile of welcome was on her face, no + greeting on his. Ephraim, 't is true, told his sister where he had been, + and what he had done, but in the simplest words there vibrated that tone + of unutterable sadness which has its constant dwelling-place in such + sorely-tried hearts. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, a great change had come over Viola. Nature continues her + processes of growth and development 'mid the tempests of human grief, and + often the fiercer the storm the more beautiful the after effects. Viola + was no longer the pale child, “the little spit-fire,” by whom her Uncle + Gabriel's arm had been seized in such a violent grip. A womanly gentleness + had come over her whole being, and already voices were heard in the <i>Ghetto</i> + praising her grace and beauty, which surpassed even the loveliness of her + dead mother in her happiest days. Many an admiring eye dwelt upon the + beautiful girl, many a longing glance was cast in the direction of the + little house, where she dwelt with her brother. But the daughter of a + “gambler,” the child of a man who was undergoing imprisonment for the + indulgence of his shameful vice! That was a picture from which many an + admirer shrank with horror! + </p> + <p> + One day Ephraim brought home a young canary for his sister. When he handed + her the bird in its little gilt cage, her joy knew no bounds, and + showering kisses by turns upon her brother, and on the wire-work of the + cage, her eyes sparkling with animation: + </p> + <p> + “You shall see, Ephraim, how I 'll teach the little bird to speak,” she + cried. + </p> + <p> + The softening influence which had, during the last few months, come over + his sister's nature was truly a matter of wonder to Ephraim. Humbly and + submissively she accepted the slightest suggestion on his part, as though + it were a command. He was to her a father and mother, and never were + parents more implicitly obeyed by a child than this brother by a sister + but three years his junior. + </p> + <p> + There was one subject, however, upon which Ephraim found his sister + implacable and firm—their absent father, the mere mention of whose + name made her tremble. Then there returned that haughty curl of the lips, + and all the other symptoms of a proud, inflexible spirit It was evident + that Viola hated the man to whom she owed her existence. + </p> + <p> + Thus had it come about that Ephraim was almost afraid to pronounce his + father's name. Neither did he care to allude to their mother before Viola, + for the memory of her death was too closely bound up with that dark form + behind the distant prison walls. + </p> + <p> + Let us now return to the night on which Ephraim opened the door to his + father. How had it come about? A thousand times Ephraim had thought about + his father's return—and now he durst not even kindle a light, to + look upon the long-estranged face. As silent as when he had come, Ascher + remained during the rest of the night; he had seated himself at the + window, and his arm was resting upon the very spot where formerly the cage + had stood. The bird had obtained its freedom, and was, no doubt, by this + time asleep, nestling amid the breeze-swept foliage of some wooded glen. + <i>He</i> too had regained his liberty, but no sleep closed his eyes, and + yet he was in safe shelter, in the house of his children. + </p> + <p> + At length the day began to break. The sun was still hiding behind the + mountain-tops, but its earliest rays were already reflected upon the + window-panes. In the <i>Ghetto</i> footsteps became audible; here and + there the grating noise of an opening street-door was heard, while from + round the corner resounded, ever and anon, the hammer of the watchman, + calling the people to morning service; for it was a Fast-day, which + commenced at sunrise. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Ascher raised himself from his chair, and quickly turned + away from the window. Ephraim was already by his side. “Father, dear + father!” he cried from the inmost depths of his heart, as he tried to + grasp the hand of the convict. + </p> + <p> + “Don't make such a noise,” said the latter, casting a furtive glance in + the direction of the window, and speaking in the same mysterious whisper + in which he had asked for admittance into the house. + </p> + <p> + What a strange awakening it was to his son, when, in the gray twilight of + the breaking day, he looked at Ascher more closely. In his imagination + Ephraim had pictured a wan, grief-worn figure, and now he saw before him a + strong, well-built man, who certainly did not present the appearance of a + person who had just emerged from the dank atmosphere of a prison! On the + contrary, he seemed stronger and more vigorous than he had appeared in his + best days. + </p> + <p> + “Has he had such a good time of it...?” Ephraim felt compelled to ask + himself... “how different our poor mother looked!” + </p> + <p> + With a violent effort he repressed the feelings which swelled his bosom. + “Dear father,” he said, with tears in his eyes, “make yourself quite + comfortable; you have n't closed your eyes the whole night, you must be + worn out. You are at home, remember... father!” + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” said Ascher, with a deprecating gesture, “<i>we</i> + fellows know other ways of spending the night.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>We fellows!</i>” The words cut Ephraim to the heart. + </p> + <p> + “But you may be taken ill, father,” he timidly observed. + </p> + <p> + “I taken ill! What do you take me for?” Ascher laughed, boisterously. “I + have n't the slightest intention of failing ill.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the watchman was heard hammering at the door of the next + house. The reverberating blows seemed to have a strangely disquieting + effect upon the strong man; a violent tremor seized him; he cast one of + the frightened glances which Ephraim had noticed before in the direction + of the window, then with one bound he was at the door, and swiftly turned + the knob. + </p> + <p> + “Father, what 's the matter?” Ephraim cried, much alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Does the watchman look into the room when he passes by?” asked Ascher, + while his eyes almost burst from their sockets, with the intent-ness of + their gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” Ephraim assured him. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see, wait...” whispered Ascher. + </p> + <p> + The three well-known knocks now resounded upon their own door, then the + shadow of a passing figure was thrown upon the opposite wall. With a sigh + of relief, the words escaped Ascher's bosom: + </p> + <p> + “He did not look inside...” he muttered to himself. + </p> + <p> + Then he removed his hand from the door-knob, came back into the centre of + the room, and approaching the table, rested his hand upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim...” he said after a while, in that suppressed tone which seemed + to be peculiar to him, “are n't you going to synagogue?” + </p> + <p> + “No, father,” replied Ephraim, “I 'm not going to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “But they 'll want to know,” Ascher observed, and at the words an ugly + sneer curled the corners of his lip; “they 'll want to know who your guest + is. Why don't you go and tell them?” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” cried Ephraim. + </p> + <p> + “Then be good enough to draw down the blinds.... What business is it of + theirs who your guest is? Let them attend to their own affairs.... But + they would n't be of 'the chosen race' if they did n't want to know what + was taking place in the furthermost corner of your brain. You can't be too + careful with them... you 're never secure against their far-scenting noses + and their sharp, searching eyes.” + </p> + <p> + It was now broad daylight. Ephraim drew down the blinds. + </p> + <p> + “The blinds are too white...” Ascher muttered, and moving a chair forward, + he sat down upon it with his back to the window. + </p> + <p> + Ephraim proceeded to wind the phylacteries round his arm, and commenced to + say his prayers softly. + </p> + <p> + His devotions over, he hurriedly took the phylacteries from his head and + hand. + </p> + <p> + Ascher was still sitting immovable, his back to the window, his eyes fixed + upon the door. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you ask me where I 've left my luggage?” he suddenly cried. + </p> + <p> + “I 'll fetch it myself if you 'll tell me where it is,” Ephraim remarked, + in all simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, you make me laugh,” cried Ascher, and a laugh like that of + delirium burst from his lips. “All I can say, Ephraim, is, the most + powerful giant upon earth would break his back beneath the weight of my + luggage!” + </p> + <p> + Then only did Ephraim grasp his father's meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry yourself, father...” he said lovingly. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to support me, perhaps!” Ascher shouted, with cutting + disdain. + </p> + <p> + Ephraim's heart almost ceased to beat. Then movements were heard in the + adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any one with you?” cried Ascher, springing up. His sharp ears + had instantly caught the sounds, and again the strong man was seized with + violent trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Father, it's only dear Viola,” said Ephraim. + </p> + <p> + A nameless terror seemed to have over-powered Ascher. With one hand + convulsively clenched upon the arm of the chair, and the other pressed to + his temple, he sat breathing heavily. Ephraim observed with alarm what a + terrible change had come over his father's features during the last few + seconds: his face had become ashen white, his eyes had lost their lustre, + he seemed to have aged ten years. + </p> + <p> + The door opened, and Viola entered. + </p> + <p> + “Viola!” cried Ephraim, “here is our—” + </p> + <p> + “Welcome!” said the girl, in a low voice, as she approached a few steps + nearer. She extended her hand towards him, but her eyes were cast down. + She stood still for a moment, then, with a hurried movement, turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Gudule!” cried Ascher, horror-stricken, as he fell back almost senseless + in his chair. + </p> + <p> + Was it the glamour of her maiden beauty that had so overpowered this + unhappy father? Or was it the extraordinary resemblance she bore to the + woman who had so loved him, and whose heart he had broken? The utterance + of her name, the terror that accompanied the exclamation, denoted the + effect which the girl's sudden appearance had produced upon that sadly + unhinged mind. + </p> + <p> + “Viola!” Ephraim cried, in a sorrow-stricken voice, “why don't you come + here?” + </p> + <p> + “I <i>can't</i>, Ephraim, I <i>can't</i>...” she moaned, as, with halting + steps, she walked towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Come, speak to him, do,” Ephraim entreated, taking her hand in his. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go!” she cried, trying to release herself.... “I am thinking of + mother!” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Ascher rose. + </p> + <p> + “Where's my stick?” he cried. “I want the stick which I brought with + me.... Where is it? I must go.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, you won't...” cried Ephraim. + </p> + <p> + Then Viola turned round. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she said, with twitching lips... “you'll want something to eat + before you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, let me have something to eat,” he shouted, as he brought his + fist down upon the table. “Bring me wine... and let it be good... I am + thirsty enough to drink the river dry.... Wine, and beer, and anything + else you can find, bring all here, and then, when I 've had my fill, I 'll + go.” + </p> + <p> + “Go, Viola,” Ephraim whispered in his sister's ear, “and bring him all he + asks for.” + </p> + <p> + When Viola had left the room, Ascher appeared to grow calmer. He sat down + again leaning his arms upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he muttered to himself: “I 'll taste food with my children, before + I take up my stick and go.... They say it's lucky to have the first drink + of the day served by one's own child... and luck I <i>will</i> have again, + at any price... What good children! While I 've been anything but a good + father to them, they run hither and thither and take the trouble to get me + food and drink, and I, I 've brought them home nothing but a wooden stick. + But I 'll repay them, so help me God, I 'll make them rich yet, but I 've + got nothing but a wooden stick, and I want money, no play without money, + and no luck either....” + </p> + <p> + Gradually a certain thoughtfulness overspread Ascher's agitated features, + his lips were tightly compressed, deep furrows lined his forehead, while + his eyes were fixed in a stony glare, as if upon some distant object. In + the meantime Ephraim had remained standing almost motionless, and it was + evident that his presence in the room had quite escaped his father's + observation. With a chilling shudder running through his frame, his hair + on end with horror, he listened to the strange soliloquy!... Then he saw + his father's eyes travelling slowly in the direction of the old bureau in + the corner, and there they remained fixed. “Why does he leave the key in + the door, I wonder,” he heard him mutter between his teeth, “just as + Gudule used to do; I must tell him when he comes back, keys should n't be + left in doors, never, under any circumstances.” The entrance of Viola + interrupted the old gambler's audible train of thought. + </p> + <p> + Ephraim gave a gasp of relief. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, what have you brought me?” cried Ascher, and his eyes sparkled with + animation, as Viola produced some bottles from under her apron, and placed + them and some glasses upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Now then, fill up the glass,” he shouted, in a commanding voice, “and + take care that you don't spill any, or you 'll spoil my luck.” + </p> + <p> + With trembling hand Viola did as she was bidden, without spilling a single + drop. Then he took up the glass and drained it at one draught. His face + flushed a bright crimson: he poured himself out another glass. + </p> + <p> + “Are n't you drinking, Ephraim?” he exclaimed, after he had finished that + glass also. + </p> + <p> + “I don't drink to-day, father,” Ephraim faltered, “it's a fast.” + </p> + <p> + “A fast? What fast? I have been fasting too,” he continued, with a coarse + laugh, “twice a week, on bread and water; an excellent thing for the + stomach. Fancy, a fast-day in midsummer. On such a long day, when the sun + is up at three already, and at eight o'clock at night is still hesitating + whether he 'll go to bed or not... what have I got to do with your + Fast-day?” + </p> + <p> + His face grew redder every moment; he had drunk a third and a fourth + glass, and there was nothing but a mere drain left in the bottle. Already + his utterance was thick and incoherent, and his eyes were fast assuming + that glassy brightness that is usually the forerunner of helpless + intoxication. It was a sight Ephraim could not bear to see. Impelled by + that natural, almost holy shame which prompted the son of Noah to cover + the nakedness of his father, he motioned to his sister to leave. Then <i>he</i>, + too, softly walked out of the room. + </p> + <p> + Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other's + arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find words + in which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length Viola, + her head resting upon Ephraim's shoulder, whispered: “Ephraim, what do you + think of him?” + </p> + <p> + “He is ill, I think...” said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs. + </p> + <p> + “What, you call <i>that</i> illness, Ephraim?” Viola cried; “if that's + illness, then a wild beast is ill too.” + </p> + <p> + “Viola, for Heaven's sake, be quiet: he 's our own father after all!” + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim!” said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she again + threw herself into her brother's arms... “just think if mother had lived + to see this!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't, don't, Viola, my sweet!” Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing convulsively. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim!” the girl cried, shaking her head in wild despair, “I don't + believe in the <i>Sechûs!</i> When we live to see all this, and our hearts + do not break, we lose faith in everything.... Ephraim, what is to become + of us?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, dear Viola, hush, you don't know what you are saying,” replied + Ephraim, “I believe in it, because mother herself told us... you must + believe in it too.” + </p> + <p> + But Viola again shook her head. “I don't believe in it any longer,” she + moaned, “I can't.” + </p> + <p> + Noiselessly, Ephraim walked toward the door of the front room; he placed + his ear against the keyhole, and listened. Within all was silent. A fresh + terror seized him. Why was no sound to be heard?... He opened the door + cautiously lest it should creak. There sat his father asleep in the + arm-chair, his head bent on his bosom, his arms hanging limp by his side. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Viola,” he whispered, closing the door as cautiously as he had + opened it, “he is asleep....I think it will do him good. Be careful that + you make no noise.” + </p> + <p> + Viola had seated herself upon a block of wood outside the kitchen door, + and was sobbing silently. In the meantime, Ephraim, unable to find a word + of solace for his sister, went and stood at the street door, so that no + unbidden guest should come to disturb his father's slumbers. It was + mid-day; from the church hard by streamed the peasants and their wives in + their Sunday attire, and many bestowed a friendly smile upon the + well-known youth. But he could only nod his head in return, his heart was + sore oppressed, and a smile at such a moment seemed to him nothing short + of sin. He went back into the house, and listened at the door of the room. + Silence still reigned unbroken, and with noiseless steps he again walked + away. + </p> + <p> + “He is still sleeping,” he whispered to his sister. “Just think what would + have happened if we had still had that bird.... He would n't have been + able to sleep a wink.” + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim, why do you remind me of it?” cried Viola with a fresh outburst + of tears. “Where is the little bird now, I wonder?...” + </p> + <p> + Ephraim sat down beside his sister, and took her hand in his. Thus they + remained seated for some time, unable to find a word of comfort for each + other. + </p> + <p> + At length movements were heard. Ephraim sprang to his feet and once more + approached the door to listen. + </p> + <p> + “He is awake!” he softly said to Viola, and slowly opening the door, he + entered the room. + </p> + <p> + Ascher was walking up and down with heavy tread. + </p> + <p> + “Do you feel refreshed after your sleep, father?” Ephraim asked timidly. + </p> + <p> + Ascher stood still, and confronted his son. His face was still very + flushed, but his eyes had lost their glassy stare; his glance was clear + and steady. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim, my son,” he began, in a kindly, almost cheerful tone, “you 've + grown into a splendid business man, as good a business man as one can meet + with between this and Vienna. I 'm sure of it. But I must give you one bit + of advice; it 's worth a hundred pounds to one in your position. Never + leave a key in the lock of a bureau!” + </p> + <p> + Ephraim looked at his father as though stupefied. Was the man mad or + delirious to talk in such a strain? At that moment, from the extreme end + of the <i>Ghetto</i>, there sounded the three knocks, summoning the people + to evening prayer. As in the morning, so again now the sound seemed to + stun the vigorous man. His face blanched and assumed an expression of + terror; he trembled from head to foot. Then again he cast a frightened + glance in the direction of the window. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but knocking, knocking!” he muttered. “They would like to knock + the most hidden thoughts out of one's brains, if they only could. What + makes them do it, I should like to know?... To the clanging of a bell you + can, at all events, shut your ears, you need only place your hands to + them... but with that hammer they bang at every confounded door, and drive + one crazy. Who gives them the right to do it, I should like to know?” He + stood still listening. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he will be long before he reaches here?” he asked Ephraim, + in a frightened voice. + </p> + <p> + “Who, father?” + </p> + <p> + “The watch.” + </p> + <p> + “He has already knocked next door but one.” + </p> + <p> + Another minute, and the three strokes sounded on the door of the house. + Ascher heaved a sigh of relief; he rubbed his hand across his forehead; it + was wet with perspiration. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” he cried, as though addressing himself, “that 's over, and + won't come again till to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim, my son!” he cried, with a sudden outburst of cheerfulness, + accompanying the words with a thundering bang upon the table, “Ephraim, my + son, you shall soon see what sort of a father you have. Now, you 're + continually worrying your brains, walking your feet off, trying to get a + skin, or praying some fool of a peasant to be good enough to sell you a + bit of wool. Ephraim, my son, all that shall soon be changed, take my word + for it. I 'll make you rich, and as for Viola, I 'll get her a husband—such + a husband that all the girls in Bohemia will turn green and yellow with + envy.... Ascher's daughter shall have as rich a dowry as the daughter of a + Rothschild.... But there 's one thing, and one thing only, that I need, + and then all will happen as I promise, in one night.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that, father!” asked Ephraim, with a slight shudder. + </p> + <p> + “Luck, luck, Ephraim, my son!” he shouted. “What is a man without luck? + Put a man who has no luck in a chest full of gold; cover him with gold + from head to foot; when he crawls out of it, and you search his pockets, + you 'll find the gold has turned to copper.” + </p> + <p> + “And will you have luck, father?” asked Ephraim. + </p> + <p> + “Ephraim, my son!” said the old gambler, With a cunning smile, “I 'll tell + you something. There are persons whose whole powers are devoted to one + object—how to win a fortune; in the same way as there are some who + study to become doctors, and the like, so these study what we call luck... + and from them I 've learned it.” + </p> + <p> + He checked himself in sudden alarm lest he might have said too much, and + looked searchingly at his son. A pure soul shone through Ephraim's open + countenance, and showed his father that his real meaning had not been + grasped. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” he shouted loudly, waving his arms in the air, “what is to + come no man can stop. Give me something to drink, Ephraim.” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” the latter faltered, “don't you think it will harm you?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be a fool, Ephraim!” cried Ascher, “you don't know my constitution. + Besides, did n't you say that to-day was a fast, when it is forbidden to + eat anything? And have I asked you for any food? But as for drink, that's + quite another thing! The birds of the air can't do without it, much less + man!” + </p> + <p> + Ephraim saw that for that evening, at all events, it would not do to + oppose his father. He walked into the kitchen where Viola was preparing + supper, or rather breakfast, for after the fast this was the first meal of + the day. + </p> + <p> + “Viola,” he said, “make haste and fetch some fresh wine.” + </p> + <p> + “For him?” cried Viola, pointing her finger almost threateningly in the + direction of the sitting-room door. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, don't, Viola!” Ephraim implored. + </p> + <p> + “And you are fasting!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Am I not also fasting for him?” said Ephraim. + </p> + <p> + With a full bottle in his hand Ephraim once more entered the room. He + placed the wine upon the table, where the glasses from which Ascher had + drunk in the morning were still standing. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Viola?” asked Ascher, who was again pacing the room with firm + steps. + </p> + <p> + “She is busy cooking.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her she shall have a husband, and a dowry that will make half the + girls in Bohemia turn green and yellow with envy.” + </p> + <p> + Then he approached the table, and drank three brimming glasses, one after + the other. “Now then,” he said, as with his whole weight he dropped into + the old arm-chair.... “Now I 'll have a good night's rest. I need strength + and sharp eyes, and they are things which only sleep can give. Ephraim, my + son,” he continued after a while in thick, halting accents... “tell the + watch—Simon is his name, I think—he can give six knocks + instead of three upon the door, in the morning, he won't disturb me... and + to Viola you can say I 'll find her a husband, handsomer than her eyes + have ever beheld, and tell her on her wedding-day she shall wear pearls + round her neck like those of a queen—no, no, like those of Gudule, + her mother.” A few moments later he was sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + It was the dead of night. All round reigned stillness and peace, the peace + of night! What a gentle sound those words convey, a sound akin only to the + word <i>home!</i> Fraught, like it, with sweetest balm, a fragrant flower + from long-lost paradise. Thou art at rest, Ascher, and in safe shelter; + the breathing of thy children is so restful, so tranquil.... + </p> + <p> + Desist! desist! 'T is too late. Side by side with the peace of night, + there dwell Spirits of Evil, the never-resting, vagrant, home-destroying + guests, who enter unbidden into the human soul! Hark, the rustling of + their raven-hued plumage! They take wing, they fly aloft; 't is the shriek + of the vulture, swooping down upon the guileless dove. + </p> + <p> + Is there no eye to watch thee? Doth not thine own kin see thy foul deeds? + </p> + <p> + Desist! + </p> + <p> + 'T is too late.... + </p> + <p> + Open is the window, no grating noise has accompanied the unbolting of the + shutter.... The evil spirits have taken care that the faintest sound shall + die away... even the rough iron obeys their voices... it is they who have + bidden: “Be silent; betray him not; he is one of us.” + </p> + <p> + Even the key in the door of the old bureau is turned lightly and without + noise. Groping fingers are searching for a bulky volume. Have they found + it? Is there none there to cry in a voice of thunder: “Cursed be the + father who stretches forth his desecrating hand towards the things that + are his children's”?... + </p> + <p> + They <i>have</i> found it, the greedy fingers! and now, but a spring + through the open window, and out into the night.... + </p> + <p> + At that moment a sudden ray of light shines through a crack in the door of + the room.... Swiftly the door opens, a girlish figure appears on the + threshold, a lighted lamp in her hand. . . . + </p> + <p> + “Gudule!” he shrieks, horror-stricken, and falls senseless at her feet. + </p> + <p> + Ascher was saved. The terrible blow which had struck him down had not + crushed the life from him. He was awakened. But when, after four weeks of + gruesome fever and delirium, his mind had somewhat regained its + equilibrium, his hair had turned white as snow, and his children beheld an + old, decrepit man. + </p> + <p> + That which Viola had denied her father when he returned to them in all the + vigor of his manhood, she now lavished upon him in his suffering and + helplessness, with that concentrated power of love, the source of which is + not human, but Divine. In the space of one night of terror, the merest bud + of yesterday had suddenly blossomed forth into a flower of rarest beauty. + Never did gentler hands cool a fever-heated brow, never did sweeter voice + mingle its melody with the gruesome dreams of delirium. + </p> + <p> + On his sick-bed, lovingly tended by Ephraim and Viola, an ennobling + influence gradually came over the heart of the old gambler, and so deeply + touched it, that calm peace crowned his closing days. It was strange that + the events of that memorable night, and the vicissitudes that had preceded + it, had left no recollection behind, and his children took good care not + to re-awaken, by the slightest hint, his sleeping memory. + </p> + <p> + A carriage drew up one day in front of Ascher's house. There has evidently + been a splendid crop of oats this year. Uncle Gabriel has come. Uncle + Gabriel has only lately assumed the additional character of father-in-law + to Ephraim, for he declared that none but Eph-raim should be his pet + daughter's husband. And now he has come for the purpose of having a + confidential chat with Viola. There he sits, the kind-hearted, + simple-minded man, every line of his honest face eloquent with good-humor + and happiness, still guilty of an occasional violent onslaught upon his + thighs. Viola still remains his “little spit-fire.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Viola, my little spit-fire,” said he, “won't you yet allow me to + talk to my Nathan about you? Upon my word, the boy can't bear the suspense + any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle,” says Viola, and a crimson blush dyes her pale cheeks: “Uncle,” + she repeats, in a tone of such deep earnestness, that the laughing + expression upon Gabriel's face instantly vanishes, “please don't talk to + him at all. My place is with my father!” + </p> + <p> + And to all appearances Viola will keep her word. + </p> + <p> + Had she taken upon herself a voluntary penance for having, in her heart's + bitter despair, presumed to abjure her faith in the <i>Sechûs</i> of her + mother? Or was there yet another reason? The heart of woman is a strangely + sensitive thing. It loves not to build its happiness upon the hidden ruins + of another's life. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Ghetto Violet, by Leopold Kompert + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GHETTO VIOLET *** + +***** This file should be named 22663-h.htm or 22663-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/6/6/22663/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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