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diff --git a/42972-8.txt b/42972-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8ad36a2..0000000 --- a/42972-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14450 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Aaron the Jew, by B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon - -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: Aaron the Jew - A Novel - -Author: B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon - -Release Date: June 18, 2013 [EBook #42972] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AARON THE JEW *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Harvard University) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - 1. Page scan source: - Google Books: http://books.google.com/books?id=vBgOAAAAYAAJ - (Harvard University) - - - - - - - A FEW PRESS OPINIONS - - ON - - "AARON THE JEW." - - BY - - B. L. FARJEON. - - * * * * - - Globe. - -"Aaron is a most engaging figure; nothing loftier, purer, sweeter, can -be imagined than the beautiful tie which unites him to his gentle, -true-hearted Rachel." - - - Speaker. - -"In many respects a really powerful story, strong and sympathetic. The -book is infinitely superior in tone and motive to much of the current -fiction." - - - Guardian. - -"A very tender and touching sketch, showing what a beautiful and noble -life is possible to a Jew who would really live in the true spirit of -his simple faith and the best traditions of his people. Charming -pictures of Jewish household life.... Exceedingly pleasant to read." - - - Daily Telegraph. - -"Written with earnestness, sincerity, and lively sympathy with all that -is good, generous, and tender." - - - The Scotsman. - -"Powerful studies of lofty human character. It is full of genuine -life, of real men and women, and of sustained interest.... A -delightful story. 'Aaron the Jew' is a strong and original piece of -work, and will well repay perusal." - - - Lady's Pictorial. - -"This book has been received with such a chorus of praise that nothing -is left to say. It is the best novel that Mr. Farjeon has produced -since 'Grif.'" - - - Glasgow Herald. - -"'Aaron the Jew' is a benevolent and beautiful character. The story is -an interesting one." - - - Western Morning News. - -"Mr. Farjeon has never written a more natural and touching story than -this of 'Aaron the Jew.' All his characters are of an attractive and -noble-minded type." - - - Westminster Gazette. - -"Very simply and touchingly written; rises to the level of real -pathos." - - - Jewish Chronicle. - -"The book is interesting, and is a worthy addition to the Jewish -stories which are so much in fashion just now." - - - Jewish World. - -"'Aaron the Jew' is a contribution to light fiction, all the more -welcome because its very slightness may cause it to be read by people -who still know nothing of Jews and Judaism, and so tend to remove -senseless prejudices." - - - Record. - -"A powerfully written work." - - - World. - -"Mr. Farjeon's new novel, 'Aaron the Jew,' is his best work since -'Grif' made him known to the reading world as a writer of fiction -gifted with exceptional power and originality. The story is finely -conceived and worked out with great care and lucidity." - - - Liverpool Daily Post. - -"The book is, indeed, in every way an excellent production of Mr. -Farjeon's pen, and will no doubt attain the popularity it -unquestionably deserves." - - - - - - - _AARON THE JEW_ - - - A Novel - - - - _By_ - - _B. L. FARJEON_ - - AUTHOR OF - "_Great Porter Square_," "_Grif_," "_Blade o' Grass_," - "_The Last Tenant_," _etc._, _etc_. - - - - - -London, 1895 - HUTCHINSON & CO - 34, _PATERNOSTER ROW_ - - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - - - - _CHEAP AND POPULAR EDITION_. - - * * * * * * - - THE LAST TENANT - BY - B. L. FARJEON. - - _In crown 8vo, cloth gilt, gilt top, 2s. 6d.;_ - _picture boards, 2s_. - - * * * * * * - -"A well written novel of absorbing interest." - - _Scotsman_. - - -"The story enchains the reader's attention from the first page to the -last."--_Yorkshire Post_. - -"Must be pronounced a successful piece of detective narration. Those -who like a good detective story will find what they want in 'The Last -Tenant.'" - - _Manchester Guardian_. - - * * * * * * - - London: HUTCHINSON & CO., Paternoster Row. - - - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - BOOK THE FIRST. - - _MOTHER AND CHILD_. - - * * * * - - CHAP. - - I. THE POOR DOCTOR. - - II. DR. SPENLOVE'S VISITOR. - - III. DR. SPENLOVE UNDERTAKES A DELICATE MISSION. - - IV. FLIGHT. - - V. DEATH BETTER THAN LIFE. - - VI. THE FRIEND IN NEED. - - VII. DR. SPENLOVE ADVISES. - - VIII. WHAT WAS PUT IN THE IRON BOX. - - IX. MR. MOSS PLAYS HIS PART. - - - - BOOK THE SECOND. - - _RACHEL_. - - * * * * - - X. THE VISION IN THE CHURCHYARD. - - XI. MR. WHIMPOLE INTRODUCES HIMSELF. - - XII. THE COURSE OF THE SEASONS. - - XIII. AARON COHEN PREACHES A SERMON ON LARGE NOSES. - - XIV. A PROCLAMATION OF WAR. - - XV. THE BATTLE IS FOUGHT AND WON. - - XVI. JOY AND SORROW. - - XVII. DIVINE CONSOLATION. - - - - BOOK THE THIRD. - - _THE TEMPTATION AND THE FALL_. - - * * * * - - XVIII. UNTO THEM A CHILD IS BORN. - - XIX. BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. - - XX. A MOMENTOUS NIGHT. - - XXI. OVER A BRIGHT CLOUD A BLACK SHADOW FALLS. - - XXII. THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. - - XXIII. PLUCKED FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH. - - XXIV. THE CURTAIN FALLS AWHILE. - - - - BOOK THE FOURTH. - - _HONOUR AND PROGRESS_. - - * * * * - - XXV. AFTER MANY YEARS. - - XXVI. THE FOUNDATION OF AARON'S FORTUNE. - - XXVII. THE FEAST OF PASSOVER. - - XXVIII. RACHEL'S LIFE IN THE NEW LAND. - - - XXIX. THE FAREWELL. - - - XXX. AT THE GRAVE OF HIS CHILD. - - - - BOOK THE FIFTH. - - _THE GATHERING OF THE CLOUD_. - - * * * * - - XXXI. AARON IS ASKED FOR A SUBSCRIPTION, AND RELATES THE - STORY OF A CONVERT. - - XXXII. AARON COHEN ADDRESSES A JEWISH AUDIENCE. - - XXXIII. WHAT SHALL BE DONE TO THE MAN WHOM THE KING DELIGHTETH - TO HONOUR? - - XXXIV. THE HONOURABLE PERCY STORNDALE. - - XXXV. THE SPIRIT OF THE DEAD PAST. - - XXXVI. BEFORE ALL, DUTY. - - - - BOOK THE SIXTH. - - _RETRIBUTION_. - - * * * * - - XXXVII. ESTHER MOSS RECEIVES A LETTER. - - XXXVIII. RUTH'S SECRET. - - XXXIX. THE HONOURABLE PERCY STORNDALE MAKES AN APPEAL TO - AARON COHEN. - - XL. A DUTY PERFORMED. - - XLI. THERE IS A PROVIDENCE THAT SHAPES OUR ENDS. - - XLII. A MOTHER'S JOY. - - XLIII. A PANIC IN THE CITY. - - XLIV. THE CONFESSION. - - XLV. A POISONED ARROW. - - XLVI. RETRIBUTION. - - - - - - - AARON THE JEW. - - * * * - - BOOK THE FIRST. - - _MOTHER AND CHILD_. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - THE POOR DOCTOR. - - -On a bright, snowy night in December, 1871, Dr. Spenlove, having been -employed all the afternoon and evening in paying farewell visits to -his patients, walked briskly towards his home through the narrowest -and most squalid thoroughfares in Portsmouth. The animation of his -movements may be set down to the severity of the weather, and not to -any inward cheerfulness of spirits, for as he passed familiar -landmarks, he looked at them with a certain regret, which men devoid -of sentiment would have pronounced an indication of a weak nature. In -this opinion, however, they would have been wrong, for Dr. Spenlove's -intended departure early the following morning from a field which had -strong claims upon his sympathies was dictated by a law of inexorable -necessity. He was a practitioner of considerable skill, and he had -conscientiously striven to achieve a reputation in some measure -commensurate with his abilities. From a worldly point of view his -efforts had been attended with mortifying failure; he had not only -been unsuccessful in earning a bare livelihood, but he had completely -exhausted the limited resources with which he had started upon his -career; he had, moreover, endured severe privation, and an opening -presenting itself in the wider field of London, he had accepted it -with gladness and reluctance. With gladness, because he was an -ambitious man, and had desires apart from his profession; with -reluctance, because it pained him to bid farewell to patients in whom -he took a genuine interest, and whom he would have liked to continue -to befriend. He had, indeed, assisted many of them to the full extent -of his power, and in some instances had gone beyond this limit, -depriving himself of the necessaries of life to supply them with -medicines and nourishing food, and robbing his nights of rest to -minister to their woes. He bore about him distinguishing marks of the -beautiful self-sacrifice. On this last night of his residence among -them, his purse was empty, and inclement as was the weather, he wore, -on his road home, but one thin coat, which was but a feeble protection -from the freezing air, which pierced to his skin, though every button -was put to its proper use. A hacking cough, which caused him to pause -occasionally, denoted that he was running a dangerous risk in being so -insufficiently clad; but he seemed to make light of it, and smiled -when the paroxysm was over. In no profession can be found displayed a -more noble humanity and philanthropy than in that which Dr. Spenlove -practised, and, needy as he was, and narrow as had been his means from -the start, his young career already afforded a striking example of -sweet and unselfish attributes. In the Divine placing of human hosts, -the poor doctor and the poor priest shall be found marching in the van -side by side. - -During the whole of the day snow had been falling, and during the -whole of the day Dr. Spenlove had had but one meal. He did not -complain; he had been accustomed to live from hand to mouth, and well -knew what it was to go to bed hungry; and there was before him the -prospect of brighter times. - -But cheering as was this prospect, his walk home through the falling -snow was saddened by the scenes he had witnessed in the course of the -day; and one especially dwelt in his mind. - -"Poor creature!" he mused. "What will become of her and her baby? O -pitiless world! Does it not contain a single human being who will hold -out a helping hand?" - -Before one of the poorest houses in one of the poorest streets he -paused, and, admitting himself with a private latchkey, unlocked a -door on the ground floor, and entered a room which faced the street. -There was a wire blind to the window, on which was inscribed,-- - - - CONSULTATIONS FROM 9 TILL 11 A.M. - - -This room, with a communicating bedroom at the back, comprised his -professional and private residence. - -Dr. Spenlove groped in the dark for the matches, and, lighting a -candle, applied a match to a fire laid with scrupulous economy in the -matter of coals. As he was thus employed, his landlady knocked at the -door and entered. - -"Is it you, Mrs. Radcliffe?" he asked, not turning his head. - -"Yes, sir. Let me do that, please." - -The paper he had lit in the grate was smouldering away without -kindling the wood; the landlady knelt down, and with a skilful touch -the flame leapt up. Dr. Spenlove, unbuttoning his thin coat, spread -out his hands to the warmth. - -"Any callers, Mrs. Radcliffe?" - -"A gentleman, sir, who seemed very anxious to see you. He did not -leave his name or card, but said he would call again this evening." - -"Did he mention the hour?" - -"Nine, sir." - -Dr. Spenlove put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, and quickly -withdrew it, with a smile of humour and self-pity. The landlady -noticed the action, and dolefully shook her head. - -"Very anxious to see me, you say, Mrs. Radcliffe." - -"Very anxious indeed, sir. Dear, dear, you're wet through!" - -"It is a bitter night," he said, coughing. - -"You may well say that, sir. Bad weather for you to be out, with that -nasty cough of yours." - -"There are many people worse off than I am, without either fire or -food." - -"We all have our trials, sir. It's a hard world." - -"Indeed, indeed!" he said, thinking of the female patient whom he had -last visited. - -"Where's your overcoat, sir? I'll take it down to the kitchen; it'll -dry sooner there." She looked around in vain for it. - -"Never mind my overcoat, Mrs. Radcliffe." - -"But you had it on when you went out, sir?" - -"Did I? Don't trouble about it. It will dry quickly enough where it -is." - -He was now busily employed making a parcel of books and instruments, -which he had taken from different parts of the room, and which were -the only articles of value belonging to himself it contained. The -landlady stood for a moment or two watching his movements, and then -she hurried down to her kitchen, and presently returned with a cup of -hot tea. As she passed through the passage, with the cup in one hand -and a candle in the other, she glanced at the empty umbrella stand. - -"His umbrella, too, as well as his overcoat," she muttered. "The man's -heart's too big for his body!" - -She re-entered the room. - -"I've brought you a cup of tea, sir, if you don't mind taking it." - -"Not at all, Mrs. Radcliffe. It is very kind of you." - -He drank the tea, which warmed him through and through. - -"We're all sorry at your leaving us, sir," said the landlady. "There's -plenty that'll miss you." - -"I am sorry, too," he replied; "but when needs must, you know. I can -do no good to myself or others by remaining. If the gentleman calls -again, ask him to wait, if his business is of importance. You had -better tell him I am leaving Portsmouth to-morrow morning." - -With his parcel under his arm he left the house, and trudging through -the snow again, halted at a pawnbroker's shop, lingering awhile before -he entered, as sensitive men do before putting the finishing touch to -a humiliating act. Then, shrugging his shoulders, and muttering, "I -ought to be used to it by this time," he plunged into the shop, where -he obtained upon his few last treasures as much as would pay his -third-class fare to London and the two weeks' rent he owed his -landlady. Thus safe-guarded for a few hours at least, he left the -shop, but instead of immediately retracing his steps to his lodgings -he lingered once more irresolutely, with the air of a man who was at -war with himself upon a momentous question. The sixteen shillings due -to his landlady was in his pocket, and undoubtedly it was but simple -honesty that it should be handed over to her without hesitation. But -the hapless female patient who had occupied his thoughts during the -last hour was at this moment in the throes of a desperate human -crisis, and dark as was the present to her suffering soul, the terrors -which the future held in store for her were still more agonising. She -had a young baby at her breast; she had no food in her cupboard, not a -loaf of bread, not a cup of milk; she had not a friend in the world to -whom she could appeal for help. She, too, was in debt to her landlord, -a hard man who was waiting for another sun to rise to thrust her and -her infant into the white and pitiless streets. It would have been -done to-day but for the intervention of Dr. Spenlove, who had pawned -his overcoat and umbrella to buy of the poor creature's landlord a -respite of twenty-four hours. The sixteen shillings due to Mrs. -Radcliffe would buy her another respite for a longer term, but when -this was expired there was still the hopeless future to face. Dr. -Spenlove thrust aside this latter consideration, and thought only of -the ineffable relief it was in his power to bring to a heart racked -with anguish and despair. He lost sight of the fact that the wretched -woman would still be without food, and that she was too weak to work -for it. Even when she was strong, and able to ply her needle -throughout the whole of the day and the greater part of the night, her -earnings had never exceeded six shillings a week; she had confessed as -much to the good doctor, but for whose timely aid the workhouse would -have been her only refuge. As he stood debating with himself the -sentiment of pity was strong within him, but he could not banish the -voice of justice which whispered that the money was not his to dispose -of. All the people with whom he was acquainted were poor, and his -landlady was as poor as the rest; he knew that she often depended upon -the payment of his rent to pay her own. It might be that just now she -could afford to wait awhile for what was due to her; if so, he would -dispose of the sixteen shillings as his benevolent instincts impelled -him to do; he must, however, ascertain how the land lay before he -acted. It may appear strange to many fortunate persons that issues so -grave and vital should hang upon a sum of money which to them would -not be worth a thought; but it would be a good lesson for them to -learn that opportunities are not scarce for bringing Heaven's -brightest sunshine to overcharged hearts by the judicious bestowal of -a few small coins out of the wealth which yields them all the material -comforts of life. - -Having made up his mind upon the important matter, Dr. Spenlove turned -homewards, and as he walked he recalled the incidents in connection -with the unhappy woman in which he had played a part. She was a -stranger in the neighbourhood, and had lived her lonely life in a -garret for five months. No person with whom she came in contact knew -anything of her or of her antecedents, and it was by chance that he -became acquainted with her. Attending to his poor patients in the -street in which she resided, he passed her one afternoon, and was -attracted as much by her modest and ladylike appearance as by the -evidence of extreme weakness, which could hardly escape the -observation of a man so kindly-hearted as himself. He perceived at -once that she was of a superior class to those among whom she moved, -and he was impressed by a peculiar expression on her face when his -eyes rested on her. It was the expression of a hunted woman, of one -who was in hiding and dreaded being recognised. He made inquiries -about her, but no one could give him any information concerning her, -and in the press of onerous cares and duties she passed out of his -mind. Some weeks later he met her again, and his first impressions -were renewed and strengthened; and pity stirred his heart as he -observed from her garments that she was on the downward path of -poverty. It was clear that she was frightened by his observance of -her, for she hurried quickly on; but physical weakness frustrated her -desire to avoid him; she staggered and would have fallen had he not -ran forward and caught her. Weak as she was she struggled to release -herself; he kept firm hold of her, however, animated by compassion and -fortified by honest intention. - -"You have nothing to fear from me," he said. "Allow me to assist you. -I am Dr. Spenlove." - -It was the first time he had addressed her, but his name was familiar -to her as that of a gentleman to whom the whole neighbourhood was -under a debt of gratitude for numberless acts of goodness. She glanced -timidly at his face, and a vague hope stirred her heart; she knew that -the time was approaching when she would need such a friend. But the -hope did not live long; it was crushed by a sudden fear. - -"Do you know me, sir?" - -"No," replied Dr. Spenlove, in a cheerful tone. "You are a stranger to -me, as I have no doubt I am to you." - -"You are not quite a stranger, sir," she said, timidly. "I have heard -of your kindness to many suffering people." - -"Tush, tush!" he exclaimed. "A man deserves no credit for doing his -duty. You feel stronger now, do you not? If you have no doctor you -must allow me to come and see you. Do not hesitate; you need such -advice as I can give you; and," he added gently, "I will send in my -account when you are rich. Not till then, upon my honour; and -meanwhile I promise to ask no questions." - -"I am deeply grateful to you, sir." - -And, indeed, when they parted the world was a little brighter to the -poor soul. - -From that day he attended her regularly, and she was strengthened and -comforted by his considerate conduct towards her. She was known as -Mrs. Turner; but it was strange, if she were wife or widow, that she -should wear no wedding-ring. As their intimacy ripened his first -impression that she was a lady was confirmed, and although he was -naturally curious about her history, he kept his promise by not asking -her any questions which he instinctively felt it would be painful to -her to answer. Even when he discovered that she was about to become a -mother he made no inquiries concerning the father of her unborn child. -On the day he bade her farewell, her baby, a girl, was two weeks old, -and a dark and terrible future lay before the hapless woman. His heart -bled for her, but he was powerless to help her further. Weak and -despairing, she sat in her chair with her child at her wasted breast; -her dark and deep-sunken eyes seemed to be contemplating this future -in hopeless terror. - -"I am grieved to leave you so," he said, gazing sadly at her; "but it -is out of my power to do what I would wish. Unhappily, I am almost as -poor as yourself. You will try to get strong, will you not?" - -"I don't know," she murmured. - -"Remember," he said, taking her hand, "you have a duty to perform. -What will you do when you are strong?" - -"I don't know." - -"Nay, nay," he gently urged, "you must not speak so despondently. -Believe me, I do not wish to force your confidence, but I have -gathered from chance words you have let drop that you lived in London. -I am going there to-morrow. Can I call upon any person who would be -likely to assist you?" - -"There is no one." - -"But surely you must have some friends or relations----" - -"I have none. When you leave me I shall be without a friend in the -world." - -"God help you!" he sighed. - -"Will He?" - -The question was asked in the voice of one who had abandoned hope, who -had lost faith in human goodness and eternal justice, and who was -tasting the bitterness of death. - -Dr. Spenlove remained with her an hour, striving to cheer her, to -instil hope into her heart, but his words had no effect upon her; and, -indeed, he felt at times that the platitudes to which he was giving -utterance were little better than mockery. Was not this woman face to -face with the practical issues of life and death in their most awful -aspect, and was it not a stern fact that there was but one practical -remedy for them? She asked for bread, and he was offering her a stone. -It was then he went from her room and learned the full truth from her -landlord, who was only waiting till he was gone to turn her into the -streets. We know by what means he bought a day's respite for her. -Finally he left her, and bore away with him the darkest picture of -human misery of which he had ever had experience. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - DR. SPENLOVE'S VISITOR. - - -His landlady, Mrs. Radcliffe, met him on the doorstep, and informed -him that the gentleman who had called to see him in the afternoon had -called again, and was in his room. - -"A word, Mrs. Radcliffe," he said, hurriedly. "I am going to ask a -great favour of you. I owe you two weeks' rent." - -"Yes, sir." - -His heart sank within him; he divined immediately from her tone that -she was in need of the money. - -"Would it inconvenience you to wait a little while for it?" - -"I must, sir, if you haven't got it," she replied, "but I am -dreadfully hard pressed, and I reckoned on it. I'm behindhand myself, -sir, and my landlord's been threatening me----" - -"Say no more, Mrs. Radcliffe. Justice must be first served. I have the -money; take it--for Heaven's sake take it quickly! I must not rob the -poor to help the poor." - -He muttered the last words to himself as he thrust the sixteen -shillings into her hand. - -"I am so sorry, sir," said the distressed woman. - -He interrupted her with, "There, there, I am ashamed that I asked you. -I am sure no one has a kinder heart than you, and I am greatly obliged -to you for all the attention you have shown me while I have been in -your house. The gentleman is in my room, you say?" - -It was a proof of Mrs. Radcliffe's kindness of heart that there was a -bright fire blazing in the room, made with her own coals, and that the -lamp had been replenished with her own oil. Dr. Spenlove was grateful -to her, and he inwardly acknowledged that he could not have otherwise -disposed of the few shillings which he had no right to call his own. -His visitor rose as he entered, a well-dressed man some forty years of -age, sturdily built, with touches of grey already in his hair and -beard, and with signs in his face and on his forehead indicative of a -strong will. - -"Dr. Spenlove?" he asked, as they stood facing each other. - -"That is my name." - -"Mine is Gordon. I have come to see you on a matter of great -importance." - -Dr. Spenlove motioned to the chair from which his visitor had risen, -and he resumed his seat; but although he had said that he had come -upon a matter of great importance, he seemed to be either in no hurry -to open it, or to be uncertain in which way to do so, for he sat for -some moments in silence, smoothing his bearded chin and studying Dr. -Spenlove's face with a stern and studious intentness. - -"Can you spare me half an hour of your time?" he said at length. - -"Longer, if you wish," said Dr. Spenlove. - -"It may be longer, if you offer no opposition to the service I wish -you to render me; and perhaps it is as well to say that I am willing -and can afford to pay for the service." - -Dr. Spenlove bent his head. - -"It is seldom," continued Mr. Gordon, "that I make mistakes, and the -reason is not far to seek. I make inquiries, I clear the ground, I -resolve upon a course of action, and I pursue it to its end without -deviation. I will be quite frank with you, Dr. Spenlove; I am a hard, -inflexible man. Thrown upon the world when I was a lad, I pushed my -way to fortune. I am self-made; I can speak fair English. I have -received little education, none at all in a classical way; but I -possess common sense, and I make it apply to my affairs. That is -better than education if a man is resolved to get along in life--as I -was resolved to do. When I was a young man I said, 'I will grow rich, -or I will know the reason why.' I have grown rich. I do not say it as -a boast--it is only fools who boast--but I am worth to-day a solid -twenty thousand pounds a year. I make this statement merely as a proof -that I am in a position to carry out a plan in which I desire your -assistance and co-operation." - -"My dear sir," said Dr. Spenlove, who could not but perceive that his -visitor was very much in earnest, "the qualities you mention are -admirable in their way, but I fear you have come to the wrong man. I -am a doctor, and if you do not need my professional advice----" - -"Stop a moment," interrupted Mr. Gordon, "I have come to the right -man, and I do not need professional advice. I am as sound as a bell, -and I have never had occasion to pay a doctor's fee. I know what I am -about in the mission which brings me here. I have made inquiries -concerning you, and have heard something of your career and its -results; I have heard of your kindnesses and of the esteem in which -you are held. You have influence with your patients; any counsel you -might give them, apart from your prescriptions, would be received with -respect and attention; and I believe I am not wrong when I say that -you are to some extent a man of the world." - -"To some slight extent only," corrected Dr. Spenlove, with a faint -smile. - -"Sufficient," proceeded Mr. Gordon, "for my purpose. You are not blind -to the perils which lie before weak and helpless women--before, we -will say, a woman who has no friends, who is living where she is not -known, who is in a position of grave danger, who is entirely without -means, who is young and good-looking, and who, at the best, is unable -by the work of her hands to support herself." - -Dr. Spenlove looked sharply at his visitor. "You have such a woman in -your mind, Mr. Gordon." - -"I have such a woman in my mind, Dr. Spenlove." - -"A patient of mine?" - -"A patient of yours." - -There was but one who answered to this description, and whose future -was so dark and hopeless. For the first time during the interview he -began to be interested in his visitor. He motioned him to proceed. - -"We are speaking in confidence, Dr. Spenlove?" - -"In perfect confidence, Mr. Gordon." - -"Whether my errand here is successful or not, I ask that nothing that -passes between us shall ever be divulged to a third person." - -"I promise it." - -"I will mention the name of the woman to whom I have referred, or, it -will be more correct to say, the name by which she is known to you. -Mrs. Turner." - -"You mean her no harm, sir?" - -"None. I am prepared to befriend her, to save her, if my conditions -are accepted." - -Dr. Spenlove drew a deep breath of relief. He would go to his new -field of labours with a light heart if this unhappy woman were saved. - -"You have come at a critical moment," he said, "and you have -accurately described the position in which she is placed. But how can -my mediation, or the mediation of any man, be necessary in such a -case? She will hail you as her saviour and the saviour of her babe. -Hasten to her immediately, dear sir; or perhaps you do not know where -she lives, and wish me to take you to her? I am ready. Do not let us -lose a moment, for every moment deepens her misery." - -He did not observe the frown which passed into Mr. Gordon's face at -his mention of the child; he was so eager that his hat was already on -his head and his hand on the handle of the door. - -Mr. Gordon did not rise from his chair. - -"You are in too great a hurry, Dr. Spenlove. Be seated, and listen to -what I have to say. You ask how your mediation can avail. I answer, in -the event of her refusal to accept the conditions upon which I am -ready to marry her." - -"To marry her!" exclaimed Dr. Spenlove. - -"To marry her," repeated Mr. Gordon. "She is not a married woman, and -her real name need not be divulged. When you hear the story I am about -to relate, when you hear the conditions, the only conditions, upon -which I will consent to lift her from the degraded depths into which -she has fallen, you will understand why I desire your assistance. You -will be able to make clear to her the effect of her consent or refusal -upon her destiny and the destiny of her child; you will be able to use -arguments which are in my mind, but to which I shall not give -utterance. And remember, through all, that her child is a child of -shame, and that I hold out to her the only prospect of that child -being brought up in a reputable way and of herself being raised to a -position of respectability." - -He paused a moment or two before he opened fresh matter. - -"I was a poor lad, Dr. Spenlove, without parents, without a home; and -when I was fourteen years of age I was working as an errand-boy in -London, and keeping myself upon a wage of four shillings a week. I -lost this situation through the bankruptcy of my employer, and I was -not successful in obtaining another. One day, I saw on the walls a -bill of a vessel going to Australia, and I applied at the agent's -office with a vague idea that I might obtain a passage by working -aboard ship in some capacity or other. I was a strong boy--starvation -agrees with some lads--and a willing boy, and it happened that one of -my stamp was wanted in the cook's galley. I was engaged at a shilling -a month, and I landed in Melbourne with four shillings in my pocket. - -"How I lived till I became a man is neither here nor there; but when -gold was discovered I lived well, for I got enough to buy a share in a -cattle station, which now belongs entirely to me. In 1860, being then -on the high road to fortune, I made the acquaintance of a man whom I -will call Mr. Charles, and of his only child, a girl of fourteen, whom -I will call Mary. I was taken with Mr. Charles, and I was taken in by -him as well, for he disappeared from the colony a couple of years -afterwards, in my debt to the tune of a thousand pounds. He had the -grace to write to me from London, saying he would pay me some day; and -there the matter rested for seven years more, which brings me to two -years ago. - -"At that time I had occasion to visit England on business; and in -London I hunted up my debtor, and we renewed our acquaintance. Mary -was then a young woman of twenty-one; and had it not been for her, it -is more than likely I might have made things unpleasant for her -father, who was leading the disreputable life of a gambler on -racecourses, and in clubs of a low character. - -"Dr. Spenlove, you must have gathered from the insight I have given -you into my character that I am not a man of sentiment, and you will -probably consider it all the more strange that I should have -entertained feelings towards Mary which caused me to consider whether -she would not make me a creditable wife. Of these feelings I prefer -not to speak in a warmer strain, but shall leave you to place your own -construction upon them. While I was debating with myself as to the -course I should pursue, the matter was decided for me by the death of -Mr. Charles. He died in disgrace and poverty, and Mary was left -friendless and homeless. - -"I stepped in to her rescue, and I made a proposal of marriage to her. -At the same time, I told her that I thought it advisable, for her sake -and mine, that a little time should elapse before this proposal was -carried into effect. I suggested that our marriage should take place -in two years; meanwhile, I would return to Australia, to build a -suitable house and to prepare a home for her, and she would remain in -England to fit herself for her new sphere of duties. She accepted me, -and I arranged with a lady of refinement to receive her. To this lady -both she and I were utter strangers, and it was settled between Mary -and myself that she should enter her temporary home under an assumed -name. It was my proposal that this pardonable deceit should be -practised; no person was wronged by it, and it would assist towards -Mary's complete severance from old associations. Our future was in our -own hands, and concerned nobody but ourselves. - -"I returned to Australia, and made my preparations. We corresponded -once a month, and some few months ago I informed her of the date of my -intended arrival in England. To that letter I received no reply; and -when I landed and called at the lady's house, I learned that she had -fled. I set to work to discover the truth, and I have discovered it; I -set to work to track her, and I have succeeded. Her story is a common -story of betrayal and desertion, and I am not inclined to trouble you -with it. She has not the remotest hope of assistance from the man who -betrayed her; she has not the remotest hope of assistance from a -person in the world with the exception of myself. - -"Dr. Spenlove, notwithstanding what has occurred I am here in -Portsmouth this night with the intention of carrying out the -engagement into which I entered with her; I am here, prepared to marry -her, on express conditions. The adoption of assumed names, the -obscurity she has courted, the absolute silence which is certain to be -observed by her, by me, by you, by the man who betrayed her, render me -safe. It is known that I have come to England to be married, and she -will be accepted as I present her when I return with her as my wife. I -will have no discussion as to my motives for taking what the world -would consider an unwise step; but you will understand that my -feelings for the woman who has played me false must be of a deep and -sincere nature, or I should not dream of taking it. - -"It now only remains for me to state the conditions under which I am -prepared to save her from even a more shameful degradation than that -into which she has already fallen. I speak plainly. You know as well -as I the fate that is in store for her if my offer is rejected." - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - DR. SPENLOVE UNDERTAKES A DELICATE MISSION. - - -Mr. Gordon had spoken throughout in a cold, passionless tone, and with -no accent of emotion in his voice. If anything could have been -destructive of the idea that he loved the woman he wished to marry, it -was his measured delivery of the story he had related; and yet there -could be no question that there was some nobility in the nature of the -sacrifice he was prepared to make for her sake. The contrast between -the man and the woman struck Dr. Spenlove very forcibly. The man was -hard and cold, the woman was sensitive and sympathetic. Had their -circumstances been equal, and had Dr. Spenlove been an interested -adviser, he would have had no hesitation in saying to her: "Do not -marry this man: there is no point of union between you; you can never -kindle in his heart the fire which burns within your own; wedded to -him, a dull routine of years will be your portion." But he felt that -he dared not encourage himself to pursue this line of argument. -Although the most pregnant part of Mr. Gordon's errand had yet to be -disclosed, it seemed to him that he would very likely presently be the -arbiter of her destiny. "You will be able," Mr. Gordon had said, "to -make clear to her the effect of her consent or refusal upon her -destiny and the destiny of her child." Whatever the conditions, it -would be his duty to urge her to accept the offer that would be made -to her; otherwise, he might be condemning her to a course of life he -shuddered to contemplate. The responsibility would be too solemn for -mere sentimental consideration. These were the thoughts that flashed -through his mind in the momentary pause before Mr. Gordon spoke again. - -"I believe," his visitor then said, "that I am in possession of the -facts relating to Mrs. Turner"--he reverted to the name by which she -was generally known--"but you will corroborate them perhaps. She is in -want." - -"She is in the lowest depths of poverty." - -"Unless she pays the arrears of rent she will be turned into the -streets to-morrow." - -"That is the landlord's determination." - -"She would have been turned out to-day but for your intervention." - -"You are well informed, I see," observed Dr. Spenlove, rather nettled. - -"I have conversed with the landlord and with others concerning her. -She lives among the poor, who have troubles enough of their own to -grapple with, and are unable, even if they were inclined, to render -her the assistance of which she stands in need. She seems to have kept -herself aloof from them, for which I commend her. Now, Dr. Spenlove, I -will have no spectre of shame and degradation to haunt her life and -mine. Her past must be buried, and the grave must never be opened. To -that I am resolved, and no power on earth can turn me from it." - -"But her child?" faltered Dr. Spenlove. - -"She will have no child. She must part with her, and the parting must -be final and irrevocable. The steps I shall take to this end shall be -so effectual that if by chance in the future they should happen to -meet there shall be no possibility of recognition. I propose to have -the child placed with a family who will adopt her as a child of their -own--there will be little difficulty in finding such a family--to the -head of which a sum of one hundred pounds will be paid yearly for -maintenance. I name no limit as to time; so long as the child lives, -so long will the payment be made through my lawyers. Should the child -die before she reaches the age of twenty-one, the sum of five hundred -pounds will be paid to the people who undertake the charge. They will -know nothing of me or of the mother; our names will not be divulged to -them, and they will not be able to trace us. Should they evince a -disposition to be troublesome in this respect, the child will be taken -from them by my lawyers, and another home provided for her. A hundred -pounds a year is a liberal sum, and there will not be the least -difficulty in carrying out the proposed arrangement. In proof that I -desire the child to have every chance of leading a happy life, I will -engage to give her a marriage portion of five hundred pounds. Judge -for yourself whether a woman in Mrs. Turner's circumstances would be -acting wisely in rejecting my proposition." - -"You have spoken in a most generous spirit," said Dr. Spenlove slowly, -"so far as money goes; but you seem not to have taken into -consideration a mother's feelings." - -"I have not taken them into consideration: they are not part of my -plan. I have looked at the matter only from two points of view--its -worldly aspect, and my desire to carry out my personal wishes. I -decline to regard it or to argue upon it from the point of view of a -mother's feelings. I ask you to judge of it as a man of the world." - -"Of which," said Dr. Spenlove, "as I have hinted to you, I am a poor -example. Do you expect me to provide for the babe such a home as that -you have described?" - -"Not at all. It is my business to carry out my plan if she accepts the -conditions." - -"What, then, do you wish me to do?" - -"To lay my proposition before her as nearly as possible in my words, -to impress upon her that it is her duty to agree to it, for her own -sake and for the sake of the child." - -"Why not do so yourself?" - -"I have not seen her; I will not see her while she holds in her arms -her burden of shame. She shall come to me free and unencumbered, or -she shall not come at all. I could not speak to her as I have spoken -to you; I should not be able to command myself. She would plead to me, -and I should answer her in bitterness and anger. Such a scene would -set me so strongly against her that I should immediately relinquish my -purpose. You can reason with her; you can show her the path in which -her duty clearly lies. I do not deny that she is called upon to make a -sacrifice; but it is a sacrifice which will lead to good, it is a -sacrifice which every right-minded man would urge her to make. -Indifferent man of the world as you proclaim yourself to be, you -cannot be blind to the almost sure fate in store for her in the -circumstances in which she is placed. Your experiences must have made -you acquainted with the stories of women who have fallen as she has -fallen, and you will know how many of them were raised from the -depths, and how many of them fell into deeper shame. Dr. Spenlove, I -have entirely finished what I came here to say." - -"Before I undertake to do what you require of me," said Dr. Spenlove, -who by this time understood the man he had to deal with, "I must ask -you a question or two." - -"If they relate to the present business," responded Mr. Gordon, "I -will answer them." - -"Failing me, will you employ some other person to act as your envoy to -Mrs. Turner?" - -"I shall employ no other, for the reason that there is no other whose -counsel would be likely to influence her. And for another reason--I -have disclosed to you what I will disclose to no other person." - -"Would you leave her as she is?" - -"I would leave her as she is. Early in the morning I should take my -departure, and she would have to face the future unaided by me." - -"If she will not listen to me, if she will not make the sacrifice, you -will surely give her out of your abundance some little assistance to -help her along?" - -"Out of my abundance," replied Mr. Gordon, sternly, "I will give her -nothing--not the smallest coin. Make your mind easy upon one point, -Dr. Spenlove. So far as a practical man like myself is likely to go, I -will do what I can to make her happy if she affords me the -opportunity. She will live in a respectable atmosphere, she will be -surrounded by respectable people, she will have all the comforts that -money can purchase, and I shall never utter to her a word of reproach. -Her past will be as dead to me as if it had never been." - -Dr. Spenlove rose. "It is your desire that I shall go to her -to-night?" - -"It is. The matter must be settled without delay." - -"If she asks for time to reflect----" - -"I must have an answer to-night, yea or nay." - -There was no more to be said. The man who had been wronged and -deceived, and who had made an offer so strange, and generous, and -cruel, was fixed and implacable. - -"I may be absent some time," said Dr. Spenlove. "Where shall I see you -upon my return?" - -"Here, if you will allow me to stay." - -"You are welcome. My landlady will make you a bed on the sofa." - -"Thank you; I need no bed. I can employ myself while you are away." - -Dr. Spenlove stepped to the door, and turned on the threshold. - -"One other question, Mr. Gordon. If I succeed, when will you require -her to give up her child?" - -"To-morrow evening. I will have a carriage ready at the door. On the -following day Mrs. Turner and I will leave Portsmouth, and there is no -probability, after that, that you and I will ever meet again." - -Dr. Spenlove nodded, and left the house. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - FLIGHT. - - -The snow was falling more heavily, and a strong wind blew the flakes -into his face as he made his way to Mrs. Turner's garret. He walked as -quickly as he could, but his progress was impeded by the force of the -wind and by its driving the snow into his eyes. Despite these -obstacles he preserved his mental balance, and was observant of all -that was passing around him; and it was a proof of his kindly and -unselfish nature that, in the light of the vital errand upon which he -was engaged, he was oblivious of the sense of physical discomfort. -Conflicting questions agitated his mind. No longer under the influence -of the cold, cruel logic which distinguished Mr. Gordon's utterances, -he once more asked himself whether he would be acting rightly in -urging Mrs. Turner to renounce her maternal duties and obligations, -and to part for ever with the child of her blood. The human and the -Divine law were in conflict. On one side degradation and direst -poverty from which there seemed no prospect of escape, and driving the -mother perhaps to a course of life condemned alike by God and man; on -the other side a life of material comfort and respectability for -herself and her child. A fortuitous accident--a chance for which he -had prayed earlier in the night--had made him at once the arbiter and -the judge; his hand was on the wheel to steer these two helpless -beings through the voyage upon which they were embarked, and upon him -rested the responsibility of their future. There was no case here of -ploughing through unknown waters over hidden rocks; he saw the ocean -of life before him, he saw the rocks beneath. Amid those rocks lay the -forms of lost abandoned women who in their mortal career would surely -have been saved had an offer of rescue come, such as had come to the -woman who chiefly occupied his thoughts. They would have been spared -the suffering of despairing days, the horrors of a despairing death; -they would have been lifted from the gulf of shame and ignominy. New -hopes, new joys would have arisen to comfort them. The sacrifice they -would have been called upon to make would have been hallowed by the -consciousness that they had performed their duty. It was not alone the -happiness of the mortal life that had to be considered; if the -ministrations of God's ministers on earth were not a mockery and a -snare, it was the immortal life that was equally at stake. The soul's -reward sprang from the body's suffering. - -And still the pitiless snow fell, and the wind howled around him; and -through the white whirlwind he beheld the light of heaven and the -stars shining upon him. - -How should he act? He imagined himself steering the vessel through an -ocean of sad waters. On the right lay a haven of rest, on the left lay -a dark and desolate shore. Here, salvation; there, destruction. Which -way should he turn the wheel? His pity for her had drawn from him -during their last interview the exclamation, "God help you!" and she -had asked hopelessly, "Will He?" He had turned from her then; he had -no answer to make. There is, he said to himself now, no Divine -mediation in human affairs; the Divine hand is not stretched forth to -give food to the hungry. In so grave an issue as the starvation of a -human being, dependence upon Divine aid will not avail. Admitting -this, he felt it to be almost a heresy, but at the same time he knew -that it was true. - -There were but few people in the white streets, and of those few a -large proportion tinged his musings with a deeper melancholy. These -were ragged shivering children, and women recklessly or despondently -gashing the white carpet, so pure and innocent and fair in its -sentimental, so hard and bitter and cruel in its material aspect. By a -devious process of reasoning he drew a parallel between it and the -problem he was engaged in solving. It was poetic, and it freezed the -marrow; it had a soul and a body, one a sweet and smiling spirit, the -other a harsh and frowning reality. The heart of a poet without boots -would have sunk within him as he trod the snow-clad streets. - -Dr. Spenlove's meditations were arrested by a sudden tumult. A number -of people approached him, gesticulating and talking eagerly and -excitedly, the cause of their excitement being a couple of policemen -who bore between them the wet limp body of a motionless woman. He was -drawn magnetically towards the crowd, and was immediately recognised. - -"Here's Dr. Spenlove," they cried; "he knows her." - -Yes, he knew her the moment his eyes fell upon her, the people having -made way for him. The body borne by the policeman was that of a young -girl scarcely out of her teens, an unfortunate who had walked the -streets for two or three years past. - -"You had better come with us, doctor," said one of the policemen, to -both of whom he was known. "We have just picked her out of the water." - -A middle-aged woman pushed herself close to Dr. Spenlove. - -"She said she'd do it a month ago," said this woman, "if luck didn't -turn." - -Good God! If luck didn't turn! What direction in the unfortunate -girl's career was the lucky turn to take to prevent her from courting -death? - -"You will come with us, sir?" said the policeman. - -"Yes," answered Dr. Spenlove, mechanically. - -The police station was but a hundred yards away, and thither they -walked, Dr. Spenlove making a hasty examination of the body as they -proceeded. - -"Too late, I'm afraid, sir," said the policeman. - -"I fear so," said Dr. Spenlove, gravely. - -It proved to be the case. The girl was dead. - -The signing of papers and other formalities detained Dr. Spenlove at -the police station for nearly an hour, and he departed with a heavy -weight at his heart. He had been acquainted with the girl whose life's -troubles were over since the commencement of his career in Portsmouth. -She was then a child of fourteen, living with her parents, who were -respectable working people. Growing into dangerous beauty, she had -fallen as others had fallen, and had fled from her home, to find -herself after a time deserted by her betrayer. Meanwhile the home in -which she had been reared was broken up; the mother died, the father -left the town. Thrown upon her own resources, she drifted into the -ranks of the "unfortunates," and became a familiar figure in low -haunts, one of civilisation's painted, bedizened night-birds of the -streets. Dr. Spenlove had befriended her, counselled her, warned her, -urged her to reform, and her refrain was, "What can I do? I must -live." It was not an uncommon case; the good doctor came in contact -with many such, and could have prophesied with unerring accuracy the -fate in store for them. The handwriting is ever on the wall, and no -special gift is needed to decipher it. Drifting, drifting, drifting, -for ever drifting and sinking lower and lower till the end comes. It -had come soon to this young girl--mercifully, thought Dr. Spenlove, as -he plodded slowly on, for surely the snapping of life's chord in the -springtime of her life was better than the sure descent into a -premature haggard and sinful old age. Recalling these reminiscences, -his doubts with respect to his duty in the mission he had undertaken -were solved. There was but one safe course for Mrs. Turner to follow. - -He hastened his steps. His interview with Mr. Gordon and the tragic -incident in which he had been engaged had occupied a considerable -time, and it was now close upon midnight. It was late for an ordinary -visit, but he was a medical man, and the doors of his patients were -open to him at all hours. In the poor neighbourhood in which Mrs. -Turner resided, many of the street doors were left unlocked night and -day for the convenience of the lodgers, and her house being one of -these, Dr. Spenlove had no difficulty in obtaining admission. He shook -the snow from his clothes, and, ascending the stairs, knocked at Mrs. -Turner's door; no answer coming he knocked again and again, and at -length he turned the handle and entered. - -The room was quite dark; there was no fire in the grate, no candle -alight. He listened for the sound of breathing, but none reached his -ears. - -"Mrs. Turner!" he cried. - -Receiving no response he struck a match, and looked around. The room -was empty. Greatly alarmed he went to the landing, and knocked at an -adjoining door. A woman's voice called,-- - -"Who's there?" - -"It is I, Dr. Spenlove." - -"Wait a moment, sir." - -He heard shuffling steps, and presently the tenant appeared, only -partially dressed, with a lighted candle in her hand. - -"I didn't send for you, doctor," she said. - -"No. I want to ask you about Mrs. Turner. She is not in her room." - -"I thought it was strange I didn't hear the baby crying, but I don't -know where she is." - -"Did you not hear her go out?" - -"No, sir; I came home at ten soaked through and through, and I was -glad to get to bed. It ain't a night a woman would care to keep out in -unless she couldn't help herself." - -"Indeed it is not. Did you see anything of her before you went to -bed?" - -"I didn't see her, I heard her. I was just going off when she knocked -at my door, and asked if I could give her a little milk for the baby; -but I hadn't any to give. Besides, she ain't got a feeding-bottle that -I know of. She's been trying to borrow one, but nobody in the house -could oblige her. She's having a hard time of it, doctor." - -"She is, poor soul!" said Dr. Spenlove, with a sigh. - -"It's the way with all of us, sir; no one ought to know that better -than you do. There ain't a lodger in the house that's earning more -than twelve shillings a week; not much to keep a family on, is it, -sir? And we've got a landlord with a heart of stone. If it hadn't been -for her baby, and that it might have got him in hot water, he'd have -turned her out weeks ago. He's bound to do it to-morrow if her rent -ain't paid. He told me so this morning when he screwed the last penny -out of me." - -"Do you know whether she succeeded in obtaining milk for the child?" - -"It's hardly likely, I should say. Charity begins at home, doctor." - -"It is natural and just that it should; but it is terrible, terrible! -Where can Mrs. Turner have gone to?" - -"Heaven knows. One thing I do know, doctor, she's got no friends; she -wouldn't make any, kept herself to herself, gave herself airs, some -said, though I don't go as far as that. I dare say she has her -reasons, only when a woman sets herself up like that it turns people -against her. Are you sure she ain't in her room?" - -"The room is empty." - -"It's enough to be the death of a baby to take it out such a night as -this. Listen to the wind." - -A furious gust shook the house, and made every window rattle. To Dr. -Spenlove's agitated senses it seemed to be alive with ominous voices, -proclaiming death and destruction to every weak and helpless creature -that dared to brave it. He passed his hand across his forehead in -distress. - -"I must find her. I suppose you cannot tell me of any place she may -have gone to for assistance?" - -"I can't, sir. There's a bare chance that as she had no coals and no -money to buy 'em with, some one in the house has taken her in for the -night. I'll inquire, if you like." - -"I shall be obliged to you if you will," said Dr. Spenlove, catching -eagerly at the suggestion; "and I pray that you may be right." - -"You won't mind waiting in the passage, sir, till I've dressed myself. -I sha'n't be a minute." - -She was very soon ready and she went about the house making inquiries; -and, returning, said that none of the lodgers could give her any -information concerning Mrs. Turner. - -"I am sorry to have disturbed you," said Dr. Spenlove; and, wishing -her good-night, he once more faced the storm. The fear by which he was -oppressed was that the offer of succour had come too late, and that -Mrs. Turner had been driven by despair to the execution of some -desperate design to put an end to her misery. Instinctively, and with -a sinking heart, he took the direction of the sea, hurrying eagerly -after every person he saw ahead of him, in the hope that it might be -the woman of whom he was in search. The snow was many inches thick on -the roads, and was falling fast; the wind tore through the now almost -deserted streets, moaning, sobbing, shrieking, with an appalling human -suggestion in its tones created by Dr. Spenlove's fears. Now and then -he met a policeman, and stopped to exchange a few words with him, the -intention of which was to ascertain if the man had seen any person -answering to the description of Mrs. Turner. He did not mention her by -name, for he had an idea--supposing his search to be happily -successful--that Mr. Gordon would withdraw his offer if any publicity -were attracted to the woman he was ready to marry. The policemen could -not assist him; they had seen no woman with a baby in her arms -tramping the streets on this wild night. - -"Anything special, sir?" they asked. - -"No," he replied, "nothing special;" and so went on his way. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - DEATH BETTER THAN LIFE. - - -When Dr. Spenlove left Mrs. Turner she sat for some time in a state of -dull lethargy. No tear came into her eyes, no sigh escaped from her -bosom. During the past few months she had exhausted the entire range -of remorseful and despairing emotion. The only comfort she had -received through all those dreary months sprang from the helpful -sympathy of Dr. Spenlove; apart from, that she had never been buoyed -up by a ray of light, had never been cheered by the hope of a brighter -day. Her one prevailing thought was that she would be better dead than -alive. She did not court death; she waited for it, and silently prayed -that it would come soon. It was not from the strength of inward moral -support that she had the courage to live on; it was simply that she -had schooled herself into the belief that before or when her child was -born death would release her from the horrors of life. Young as she -was she so fostered this hope that it became a conviction, and she -looked forward to the end with dull resignation. "If I live till my -baby is born," she thought, "I pray that it may die with me." - -Here was the case of a woman without the moral support which springs -from faith in any kind of religion. In some few mortals such faith is -intuitive, but in most instances it requires guidance and wise -direction in childhood. Often it degenerates into bigotry and -intolerance, and assumes the hateful narrow form of condemning to -perdition all who do not subscribe to its own particular creed. Pagans -are as worthy of esteem as the bigots who arrogate to themselves the -monopoly of heavenly rewards. - -Mrs. Turner was neither pagan nor bigot; she was a nullity. Her -religious convictions had not yet taken shape, and though, if she had -been asked "Are you a Christian?" she would have replied, "Oh yes, I -am a Christian," she would have been unable to demonstrate in what way -she was a Christian, or what she understood by the term. In this -respect many thousands of human beings resemble her. - -Faith is strength, mightier than the sword, mightier than the pen, -mightier than all the world's store of gold and precious stones; and -when this strength is displayed in the sweetness of resignation, and -in submission to the Divine will which chastens human life with -sorrow, its influence upon the passions is sustaining, and purifying, -and sublime. If Mrs. Turner had been blessed with faith which -displayed itself in this direction, she would have been the happier -for it, and hard as were her trials, she would to the last have looked -forward with hope instead of despair. - -The story related by Mr. Gordon to Dr. Spenlove was true in every -particular. There was no distortion or exaggeration; he had done for -Mrs. Turner and her father all that he said he had done. He had not -mentioned the word "love" in connection with the woman he had asked to -be his wife. She, on her part, had no such love for him as that which -should bind a man and a woman in a life-long tie; she held him in -respect and esteem--that was all. But she had accepted him, and had -contemplated the future with satisfaction until, until---- - -Until a man crossed her path who wooed her in different fashion, and -who lavished upon her flatteries and endearments which made her false -to the promise she had given. For this man she had deserted the home -which Mr. Gordon had provided for her, and had deserted it in such a -fashion that she could never return to it, could never again be -received in it, and this without a word of explanation to the man she -had deceived. She was in her turn deceived, and she awoke from her -dream to find herself a lost and abandoned woman. In horror she fled -from him, and cast her lot among strangers, knowing full well that she -would meet with unbearable contumely among those to whom she was -known. Hot words had passed between her and her betrayer, and in her -anger she had written letters to him which in the eyes of the law -would have released him from any obligation it might otherwise have -imposed upon him. He was well pleased with this, and he smiled as he -put those letters in a place of safety--to be brought forward only in -case she annoyed him. She did nothing of the kind; her scorn for him -was so profound that she was content to release him unconditionally. -So she passed out of his life as he passed out of hers. Neither of -these beings, the betrayed or the betrayer, reckoned with the future; -neither of them gave a thought to the probability that the skeins of -Fate, which to-day separated them as surely as if they had lived at -opposite poles of the earth, might at some future time bring them -together again, and that the pages of the book which they believed was -closed for ever might be reopened for weal or woe. - -The child's moans aroused the mother from her lethargy. She had no -milk to give the babe; nature's founts were dry, and she went from -door to door in the house in which she lived to beg for food. She -returned as she went, empty-handed, and the child continued to moan. - -Dr. Spenlove, her only friend, had bidden her farewell. She had not a -penny in her pocket; there was not a crust of bread in the cupboard, -not an ounce of coal, not a stick of wood to kindle a fire. She was -thinly clad, and she did not possess a single article upon which she -could have obtained the smallest advance. She had taken the room -furnished, but even if what it contained had been her property a -broker would have given but a few shillings for everything in it. - -The little hand instinctively wandered to the mother's wasted breast, -and plucked at it imploringly, ravenously. The woman looked around in -the last throes of an anguish too deep for expression, except in the -appalling words to which she gave despairing utterance. - -"Come," she cried, "we will end it!" - -Out into the cold streets she crept, unobserved. She shivered, and a -pitiful smile crossed her lips. - -"Hush, hush!" she murmured to her babe. "It will soon be over. Better -dead--better dead--for you and for me!" - -She crept towards the sea, and hugged the wall when she heard -approaching footsteps. She need not have feared; the night was too -inclement for any but selfish consideration. The soft snow fell, and -enwrapped her and her child in its pitiless shroud. She paused by a -lamp-post, and cast an upward look at the heavens, in which she could -see the glimmering of the stars. Then she went on, and fretfully -pressed her babe close to her breast, to stifle the feeble sobs. - -"Be still, be still!" she murmured. "There is no hope in life for -either of us. Better dead--better dead!" - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - THE FRIEND IN NEED. - - -Desperately resolved as she was to carry her fatal design into -execution she had not reckoned with nature. Weakened by the life of -privation she had led for so many months, and also by the birth of her -child, her physical forces had reached the limit of human endurance. -She faltered and staggered, the ground slipped from beneath her weary -feet. Vain was the struggle, her vital power was spent. From her -overcharged heart a voiceless and terrible prayer went up to heaven. -"Give me strength, O God, give me but a little strength! I have not -far to go!" She fought the air with her disengaged hand, and tossed -her head this way and that; but her ruthless prayer was not answered, -and though she struggled fiercely she managed to crawl only a few more -steps. She had yet hundreds of yards to go to reach the sea when some -chord within her seemed to snap; her farther progress was instantly -arrested, and she found herself incapable of moving backward or -forward. Swaying to and fro, the earth, the sky the whirling snow, and -the dim light of the stars swam in her sight and faded from before -her. In that supreme moment she saw a spiritual vision of her -dishonoured life. Deprived early of a mother's counsel and -companionship, she had passed her days with a spendthrift father, -whose love for her was so tainted with selfishness that it was not -only valueless, but mischievous. When she grew to woman's estate she -was worse than alone; she had no guide, no teacher, to point out the -rocks and shoals of maidenhood, to inculcate in her the principles of -virtue which would act as a safeguard against the specious wiles of -men whose eyes were charmed by her beauty, and whose only aim was to -lure her to ruin. Then her father died, and a friend came forward who -offered her a home and an honourable position in the world. Friendless -and penniless, she accepted him, and gave him her promise, and -accepted his money. Love had not touched her heart; she thought it had -when a wilier man wooed her in another and more alluring fashion, and -by this man she had been beguiled and betrayed. Then she knew what she -had lost, but it was too late; her good name was gone, and she fled to -a strange part of the country and lived among strangers, a -heartbroken, despairing woman. All the salient features in her career -flashed before her. She saw the man who had trusted her, she saw the -man in whom she put her trust, she saw herself, an abandoned creature, -with a child of shame in her arms. These ghostly figures stood clearly -limned in that one last moment of swiftly fading light, as in the -moment of sunrise on a frosty morning every distant object stands -sharply outlined against the sky; then darkness fell upon her, and -with an inarticulate, despairing cry, she sank to the ground in a -deathlike swoon. The wind sobbed and shrieked and wailed around her -and her child; the falling snow, with treacherous tenderness, fell -softly upon them; herself insensible, she had no power to shake it -off; her babe was conscious, but its feeble movements were of small -avail against the white pall which was descending upon it and its -outcast mother. Thicker and thicker it grew, and in the wild outcry of -this bitter night Fate seemed to have pronounced its inexorable -sentence of death against these unfortunate beings. - -Ignorant of the fact that chance or a spiritual messenger was guiding -him aright, Dr. Spenlove plodded through the streets. He had no clue, -and received none from the half-dozen persons or so he encountered as -he walked towards the sea. He was scarcely fit for the task he had -undertaken, but so intent was he upon his merciful mission that he -bestowed no thought upon himself. The nipping air aggravating the -cough from which he was suffering, he kept his mouth closed as a -protection, and peered anxiously before him for some signs of the -woman he was pursuing. A man walked briskly and cheerily towards him, -puffing at a large and fragrant cigar, and stamping his feet sturdily -into the snow. This man wore a demonstratively furred overcoat; his -hands were gloved in fur; his boots were thick and substantial; and in -the independent assertion that he was at peace with the world, and on -exceedingly good terms with himself, he hummed the words, in Italian, -of the Jewel Song in "Faust" every time he removed the cigar from his -lips. Although it was but a humming reminiscence of the famous and -beautiful number, his faint rendering of it was absolutely faultless, -and proved him to be a man of refined musicianly taste, quite out of -keeping with his demonstratively furred overcoat. Music, however, was -not his profession; the instincts of his race and a youthful ambition -had welded the divine art into his soul, and the instincts of his race -had made him--a pawnbroker. Singular conjunction of qualities--the -music of the celestial spheres and fourpence in the pound a month! A -vulgar occupation, that of a pawnbroker, which high-toned gentlemen -and mortals of aristocratic birth regard with scorn and contempt. But -the last vulgar and debasing music-hall ditty which was carolled with -delight by the majority of these gilded beings of a higher social -grade never found lodgment in the soul of Mr. Moss, which, despite -that he devoted his business hours to the lending of insignificant -sums of money upon any small articles which were submitted to his -judgment across the dark counter of his pawnbroking establishment, was -attuned to a far loftier height than theirs in the divine realms of -song. Puff, puff, puff at his cigar, the curling wreaths from which -were whirled into threads of fantastic confusion by the gusts of wind, -or hung in faint grey curls of beauty during a lull. The starry gleam -was transferred from the lips to the fur-covered hand:-- - - - "E' strano poter il viso suo veder; - Ah! mi posso guardar mi pospo rimirar. - Di, sei tu? Margherita! - Di, sei tu? Dimmi su; - Dimmi su, di su, di su, di su presto!" - - -From hand to lips the starry gleam, and the soul of Mr. Moss followed -the air as he puffed his weed.... - - - "E la figlia d'un re!... - Proseguiam l'adornamento. - Vo provare ancor se mi stan - Lo smaniglia ed il monil!" - - -The pawnbroker broke into ecstasy. From lips to hand again the starry -light, and his voice grew rapturous:-- - - - "Ciel! E come una man - Che sul baaccio mi posa! - Ah! Io rido in poter - Me stessa qui veder!" - - -The last trill brought him close to Dr. Spenlove. - -"Friend, friend!" cried the doctor. "A word with you, for charity's -sake!" - -Mr. Moss did not disregard the appeal. Slipping off his right glove, -and thereby displaying two fingers decorated with massive rings -studded with diamonds, he fished a couple of coppers from a capacious -pocket, and thrust them into Dr. Spenlove's outstretched palm. He -thought it was a homeless beggar who had besought charity. Dr. -Spenlove caught his hand, and said,-- - -"No, no, it is not for that. Will you kindly tell me---- - -"Why," interrupted Mr. Moss, "it is Dr. Spenlove!" - -"Mr. Moss," said Dr. Spenlove, with a sigh of relief, "I am glad it -is you, I am glad it is you." - -"Not gladder than I am," responded Mr. Moss, jovially. "Even in -weather like this I shouldn't care to be anybody else but myself." - -This feeble attempt at humour was lost upon Dr. Spenlove. - -"You have come from the direction I am taking, and you may have seen a -person I am looking for--a woman with a baby in her arms, a poor -woman, Mr. Moss, whom I am most anxious to find." - -"I've come from the Hard, but I took no account of the people I -passed. A man has enough to do to look after himself, with the snow -making icicles in his hair, and the wind trying to bite his nose off -his face. The first law of nature, you know, doctor, is----" - -"Humanity," interrupted Dr. Spenlove. - -"No, no, doctor," corrected Mr. Moss; "number one's the first -law--number one, number one." - -"You did not meet the woman, then?" - -"Not to notice her. You've a bad cough, doctor; you'll have to take -some of your own medicine." He laughed. "Standing here is enough to -freeze one." - -"I am sorry I troubled you," said Dr. Spenlove, hurt by the tone in -which Mr. Moss spoke. "Good-night." - -He was moving away, when Mr. Moss detained him. - -"But look here, doctor, you're not fit to be tramping the streets in -this storm; you ought to be snuggled up between the blankets. Come -home with me, and Mrs. Moss shall make you a hot grog." - -Dr. Spenlove shook his head, and passed on. Mr. Moss gazed at the -retreating figure, his thoughts commingling. - -"A charitable man, the good doctor, a large-hearted gentleman.... - - - 'Tardi si fa ahdio! - Ah! ti scongiuro invan.' - - -And poor as a church mouse. What woman is he running after? Mrs. Moss -would give her a piece of her mind for taking out a baby on such a -night. - - - 'Notte d'amor, tutta splendor, - Begli astra d'oro. - O celeste voluttà! - Udir si, t'amo, t'adoro!' - - -Too bad to let him go alone, such a good fellow as he is; but Mrs. -Moss will be waiting up for me.... She won't mind when I tell -her.... I've a good mind to--yes, I will." - -And after the doctor went Mr. Moss, and caught up to him. - -"Doctor, can I be of any assistance to you?" - -"I shall be glad of your help," said Dr. Spenlove, eagerly. "I'm -rather worn out; I have had a hard day." - -"It's a trying life, the' life of a doctor," said Mr. Moss, -sympathetically, as they walked slowly on, side by side. "We were -talking of it at home only a month ago, when we were discussing what -we should put Michael to, our eldest boy, doctor." - -"You have a large family," observed Dr. Spenlove. - -"Not too large," said Mr. Moss, cheerfully. "Only eleven. My mother -had twenty-five, and I've a sister with eighteen. Our youngest--what a -rogue he is, doctor!--is eight months; our eldest, Michael, is -seventeen next birthday. School days over, he buckles to for work. We -had a family council to decide what he should be. We discussed all the -professions, and reduced them to two--doctor, stockbroker. Michael had -a leaning to be a doctor--that's why we kept it in for discussion--but -we succeeded in arguing him out of it. Your time's not your own, you -see. Called up at all hours of the night, and in all weathers; go -to a dinner-party, and dragged away before it's half over, obliged to -leave the best behind you; can't enjoy a game of cards or billiards. -You've got a little bet on, perhaps; or you're playing for points and -have got a winning hand, when it's 'Doctor, you must come at once; -so-and-so's dying.' What's the consequence? You make a miscue, or you -revoke, and you lose your money. If you're married, you're worse off -than if you're single; you haven't any comfort of your life. 'No, no, -Michael,' says I, 'no doctoring. Stockbroking--that's what you'll go -for.' And that's what he _is_ going for. Most of our people, doctor, -are lucky in their children. They don't forget to honour their father -and their mother, that their days may be long in the land, and so on. -There's big fish on the Stock Exchange, and they're worth trying for. -What's the use of sprats? It takes a hundred to fill a dish. Catch one -salmon, and your dish is filled. A grand fish, doctor, a grand fish! -What to do with your sons? Why, put them where they can make money; -don't make scavengers or coal-heavers of them. _We_ know what we're -about. There's no brain in the world to compare with ours, and that's -no boast, let me tell you. Take your strikes, now. A strike of -bricklayers for a rise of twopence a day in their wages. How many of -our race among the strikers? Not one. Did you ever see a Jewish -bricklayer carrying a hod up a hundred-foot ladder, and risking his -neck for bread, cheese, and beer? No, and you never will. We did our -share of that kind of work in old Egypt; we made all the bricks we -wanted to, and now we're taking a rest. A strike of bootmakers. How -many of our race among the cobblers? One in a thousand, and he's an -addlepate. We deal in boots wholesale; but we don't make them -ourselves. Not likely. We send consignments of them to the colonies, -and open a dozen shops in every large city, with fine plate-glass -windows. We build houses with _our_ money and _your_ bricks and -mortar. When we're after birds we don't care for sparrows: we aim at -eagles, and we bring them down; we bring them down." He beat his -gloved hands together, and chuckled. "What's your opinion, doctor?" - -"You are right, quite right," said Dr. Spenlove, upon whose ears his -companion's words had fallen like the buzzing of insects. - -"Should say I was," said Mr. Moss. "I ought to have gone on the Stock -Exchange myself; but when I was a young man I fancied I had a voice; -so I went in for music, studied Italian and all the famous operas till -I knew them by heart almost, and found out in the end that my voice -wasn't good enough. It was a great disappointment, because I had -dreamt of making a fortune as a tenor. Signor Mossini--that was to be -my name. My money being all spent, I had to take what was offered to -me, a situation with a pawnbroker. That is how I became one, and I've -no reason to regret it. Eh? Why are you running away?" - -For Dr. Spenlove suddenly left his companion, and hurried forward. - -During the time that Mr. Moss was unbosoming himself they had not met -a soul, and Dr. Spenlove had seen nothing to sustain his hope of -finding Mrs. Turner. But now his observant eyes detected a movement in -the snow-laden road which thrilled him with apprehension, and caused -him to hasten to the spot. It was as if some living creature were -striving feebly to release itself from the fatal white shroud. Mr. -Moss hurried after him, and they reached the spot at the same moment. -In a fever of anxiety Dr. Spenlove knelt and pushed the snow aside, -and then there came into view a baby's hand and arm. - -"Good God!" he murmured, and gently lifted the babe from the cold bed. - -"Is it alive? is it alive?" cried Mr. Moss, all his nerves tingling -with excitement. "Give it to me--quick! there's some one else there." - -He saw portions of female clothing in the snow which Dr. Spenlove was -pushing frantically away. He snatched up the babe, and, opening his -fur coat, clasped the little one to his breast, and enveloped it in -its warm folds. Meanwhile Dr. Spenlove was working at fever-heat. To -release Mrs. Turner from her perilous position, to raise her to her -feet, to put his mouth to her mouth, his ear to her heart, to assure -himself there was a faint pulsation in her body--all this was the work -of a few moments. - -"Does she breathe, doctor?" asked Mr. Moss. - -"She does," replied Dr. Spenlove; and added, in deep distress, "but -she may die in my arms." - -"Not if we can save her. Here, help me off with this thick coat. Easy, -easy; I have only one arm free. Now let us get her into it. That's -capitally done. Put the baby inside as well; it will hold them both -comfortably. Button it over them. There, that will keep them nice and -warm. Do you know her? Does she live far from here? Is she the woman -you are looking for?" - -"Yes, and her lodging is a mile away. How can we get her home?" - -"We'll manage it. Ah, we're in luck. Here's a cab coming towards us. -Hold on to them while I speak to the driver." - -He was off and back again with the cab--with the driver of which he -had made a rapid bargain--in a wonderfully short space of time. The -mother and her babe were lifted tenderly in, the address was given to -the driver, the two kind-hearted men took their seats, the windows -were pulled up, and the cab crawled slowly on towards Mrs. Turner's -lodging. Dr. Spenlove's skilful hands were busy over the woman, -restoring animation to her frozen limbs, and Mr. Moss was doing the -same to the child. - -"How are you getting along, doctor? I am progressing famously, -famously. The child is warming up, and is beginning to breathe quite -nicely." - -He was handling the babe as tenderly as if it were a child of his own. - -"She will recover, I trust," said Dr. Spenlove; "but we were only just -in time. It is fortunate that I met you, Mr. Moss; you have been the -means of saving two helpless, unfortunate beings." - -"Nonsense, nonsense," answered Mr. Moss. "I have only done what any -man would do. It is you who have saved them, doctor, not I. I am proud -to know you, and I shall be glad to hear of your getting along in the -world. You haven't done very well up to now, I fear. Go for the big -fish and the big birds, doctor." - -"If that were the universal law of life," asked Dr. Spenlove, in a -tone of exquisite compassion, with a motion of his hands towards Mrs. -Turner and her child, "what would become of these?" - -"Ah, yes, yes," responded Mr. Moss, gravely; "but I mean in a general -way, you know. To be sure, there are millions more little fish and -birds than there are big ones, but it's a selfish world, doctor." - -"You are not an exemplification of it," said Dr. Spenlove, his eyes -brightening. "The milk of human kindness will never be frozen, even on -such bitter nights as this, while men like you are in it." - -"You make me ashamed of myself," cried Mr. Moss, violently, but -instantly sobered down. "And now, as I see we are close to the poor -woman's house, perhaps you will tell me what more I can do." - -Dr. Spenlove took from his pocket the money with which he had intended -to pay his fare to London, and held it out to Mr. Moss. "Pay the -cabman for me, and assist me to carry the woman up to her room." - -Mr. Moss thrust the money back. "I will pay him myself; it is my cab, -not yours. I don't allow any one to get the better of me if I can help -it." - -When the cab stopped he jumped out and settled with the driver, and -then he and Dr. Spenlove carried Mrs. Turner and her babe to the top -of the house. The room was dark and cold, and Mr. Moss shivered. He -struck a match, and held it while Dr. Spenlove laid the mother and -child upon their wretched bed. - -"Kindly stop here a moment," said the doctor. - -He went into the passage, and called to the lodger on the same floor -of whom he had made inquiries earlier in the night. She soon appeared, -and after they had exchanged a few words, accompanied him, but -partially dressed, to Mrs. Turner's room. She brought a lighted candle -with her, and upon Mr. Moss taking it from her, devoted herself, with -Dr. Spenlove, to her fellow-lodger and the babe. - -"Dear, dear, dear!" she said, piteously. "Poor soul, poor soul!" - -Mr. Moss was not idle. All the finer qualities of his nature were -stirred to action by the adventures of the night. He knelt before the -grate; it was empty; not a cinder had been left; some grey ashes on -the hearth--that was all. He looked into the broken coal scuttle; it -had been scraped bare. Rising to his feet he stepped to the cupboard; -a cracked cup and saucer were there, a chipped plate or two, a -mouthless jug, but not a vestige of food. Without a word he left the -room, and sped downstairs. - -He was absent fifteen or twenty minutes, and when he returned it was -in the company of a man who carried a hundredweight of coals upon his -shoulders. Mr. Moss himself was loaded: under his armpits two bundles -of wood and a loaf of bread; in one hand tea and butter; in his other -hand a can of milk. - -"God bless you, sir!" said the woman, who was assisting Dr. Spenlove. - -Mr. Moss knelt again before the grate, and made a fire. Kettle in hand -he searched for water. - -"You will find some in my room, sir," said the woman. - -Mrs. Turner and her babe were now in bed, the child still craving for -food, the mother still unconscious, but breathing heavily. The fire -lit, and the kettle on, Mr. Moss put on his fur overcoat, whispered a -good-night to Dr. Spenlove, received a grateful pressure of the hand -in reply, slipped out of the house, and took his way home, humming-- - - - "O del ciel angeli immortal, - Deh mi guidate con voi lassù! - Dio giusto, a te m'abbandono, - Buon Dio, m'accorda il tuo perdono!" - - -He looked at his hands, which were black from contact with the coals. - -"What will Mrs. Moss say?" he murmured. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - DR. SPENLOVE ADVISES. - - -An hour after Mr. Moss's departure Mrs. Turner opened her eyes. It was -a moment for which Dr. Spenlove had anxiously waited. He had satisfied -himself that both of his patients were in a fair way of recovery, and -thus far his heart was relieved. The woman who had assisted him had -also taken her departure after having given the babe some warm milk. -Her hunger appeased, the little one was sleeping calmly and peacefully -by her mother's side. - -The room was now warm and cheerful. A bright fire was blazing, the -kettle was simmering, and a pot of hot tea was standing on the hearth. - -Mrs. Turner gazed around in bewilderment. The one candle in the room -but dimly lighted it up, and the flickering flames of the fire threw -fantastic shadows on walls and ceiling; but so bright was the blaze -that there was nothing distressful in these shadowy phantasmagoria. At -a little distance from the bed stood Dr. Spenlove, his pale face -turned to the waking woman. She looked at him long and steadily, and -did not answer him when he smiled encouragingly at her and spoke a few -gentle words. She passed her hand over the form of her sleeping child, -and then across her forehead, in the effort to recall what had passed. -But her mind was confused; bewildering images of the stages of her -desperate resolve presented themselves--blinding snow, shrieking wind, -the sea which she had not reached, the phantoms she had conjured up -when her senses were deserting her in the white streets. - -"Am I alive?" she muttered. - -"Happily, dear Mrs. Turner," said Dr. Spenlove. "You are in your own -room, and you will soon be well." - -"Who brought me here?" - -"I, and a good friend I was fortunate enough to meet when I was -seeking you." - -"Why did you seek me?" - -"To save you." - -"To save me! You knew, then----" - -She paused. - -"I knew nothing except that you were in trouble." - -"Where did you find me?" - -"In the snow, you and your child. A few minutes longer, and it would -have been too late. But an angel directed my steps." - -"No angel directed you: a devil led you on. Why did you not leave me -to die? It was what I went out for. I confess it!" she cried, -recklessly. "It was my purpose not to live; it was my purpose not to -allow my child to live! I was justified. Is not a quick death better -than a slow, lingering torture which must end in death? Why did you -save me? Why did you not leave me to die?" - -"It would have been a crime." - -"It would have been a mercy. You have brought me back to misery. I do -not thank you, doctor." - -"You may live to thank me. Drink this tea; it will do you good." - -She shook her head rebelliously. - -"What is the use? You have done me an ill turn. Had it not been for -you I should have been at peace. There would have been no more hunger, -no more privation. There would have been an end to my shame and -degradation." - -"You would have taken it with you to the Judgment Seat," said Dr. -Spenlove, with solemn tenderness. "There would have been worse than -hunger and privation. What answer could you have made to the Eternal -when you presented yourself before the Throne with the crime of murder -on your soul?" - -"Murder!" she gasped. - -"Murder," he gently repeated. "If you went out to-night with an -intention so appalling, it was not only your own life you would have -taken, it was the life of the innocent babe now slumbering by your -side. Can you have forgotten that?" - -"No," she answered, in a tone of faint defiance, "I have not forgotten -it, I do not forget it. God would have forgiven me." - -"He would not have forgiven you." - -"He would. What has she to live for? What have I to live for--a lost -and abandoned woman, a mother whose association would bring -degradation upon her child? How should I meet her reproaches when -she grew to be a woman herself? I am not ungrateful for what you -have done for me"--she glanced at the fire and the tea he held in his -hand--"but it cannot continue. To-morrow will come. There is always a -to-morrow to strike terror to the hearts of such as I. Do you know -what I have suffered? Do you see the future that lies before us? What -hope is there in this world for me and my child?" - -"There is hope. You brought her into the world." - -"God help me, I did!" she moaned. - -"By what right, having given her life, would you rob her of the -happiness which may be in store for her?" - -"Happiness!" she exclaimed, bitterly. "You speak to me of happiness!" - -"I do, in truth and sincerity, if you are willing to make a sacrifice, -if you are willing to perform a duty." - -"What would I not be willing to do," she cried, despairingly; "what -would I not cheerfully do, to make her life innocent and happy--not -like mine--oh, not like mine! But you are mocking me with empty -words." - -"Indeed I am not," said Dr. Spenlove, earnestly. "Since I left you -some hours ago, not expecting to see you again, something has occurred -of which I came to speak to you. I found your room deserted, and -feared--what we will not mention again. I searched, and discovered you -in time to save you; and with all my heart I thank God for it! Now, -drink this tea. I have much to say to you, and you need strength to -consider it. If you can eat a little bread and butter--ah, you can! -Let me fill your cup again. That is right. Now I recognise the lady it -was my pleasure to be able to assist, not to the extent I would have -wished, because of my own circumstances." - -His reference to her as a lady, no less than the respectful -consideration of his manner towards her, brought a flush to her cheeks -as she ate. And, indeed, she ate ravenously. Defiant and rebellious as -may be our moods, nature's demands are imperative, and no mortal is -strong enough to resist them. - -When she had finished he sat by her side, and was silent awhile, -debating with himself how he should approach the task which Mr. Gordon -had imposed upon him. - -She saved him the trouble of commencing. "Are you acquainted with the -story of my life?" she asked. - -"It has been imparted to me," he replied, "by one to whom I was a -stranger till within the last few hours." - -"Do I know him?" - -"You know him well." - -For a moment she thought of the man who had brought her to this gulf -of shame, but she dismissed the thought. It was impossible. He was too -heartless and base to send a messenger to her on an errand of -friendship, and Dr. Spenlove would have undertaken no errand of an -opposite nature. - -"Will you tell me his name?" - -"Mr. Gordon." - -She trembled, and her face grew white. She had wronged this man; the -law might say that she had robbed him. Oh! why had her fatal design -been frustrated? why was not this torturing existence ended? - -"You need be under no apprehension," continued Dr. Spenlove; "he comes -as a friend." - -She tossed her head in scorn of herself as one unworthy of friendship. - -"He has but lately arrived in England from the Colonies, and he came -with the hope of taking you back with him as his wife. It is from him -I learned the sad particulars of your life. Believe me when I say that -he is desirous to befriend you." - -"In what way? Does he offer me money? I have cost him enough already. -My father tricked him, and I have shamefully deceived him. To receive -more from him would fill me with shame; but for the sake of my child I -will submit to any sacrifice, to any humiliation--I will do anything, -anything! It would well become me to show pride when charity is -offered to me!" - -"Do not forget those words--'for the sake of your child you will -submit to any sacrifice.' It is your duty, for her sake, to accept any -honourable proposition, and Mr. Gordon offers nothing that is not -honourable." (He sighed as he said this, for he thought of the -sacredness of a mother's love for her first-born.) "He will not give -you money apart from himself. United to him, all he has is yours. He -wishes to marry you." - -She stared at him in amazement. - -"Are you mad!" she cried, "or do you think that I am?" - -"I am speaking the sober truth. Mr. Gordon has followed you here -because he wishes to marry you." - -"Knowing me for what I am!" she said, still incredulous. "Knowing that -I am in the lowest depths of degradation; knowing this"--she touched -her child with a gentle hand--"he wishes to marry me!" - -"He knows all. There is not an incident in your career with which he -does not seem to be acquainted, and in the errand with which he has -charged me he is sincerely in earnest." - -"Dr. Spenlove," she said, slowly, "what is your opinion of a man who -comes forward to pluck from shame and poverty a woman who has behaved -as I have to Mr. Gordon?" - -"His actions speak for him," replied Dr. Spenlove. - -"He must have a noble nature," she said. "I never regarded him in that -light. I took him to be a hard, conscientious, fair-dealing man, who -thought I would make him a good wife, but I never believed that he -loved me. I did him the injustice of supposing him incapable of love. -Ah, how I misjudged this man! I am not worthy of him, I am not worthy -of him!" - -"Set your mind not upon the past, but upon the future. Think of -yourself and of your child in the years to come, and remember the fear -and horror by which you have been oppressed in your contemplation of -them. I have something further to disclose to you. Mr. Gordon imposes -a condition from which he will not swerve, and to which I beg you to -listen with calmness. When you have heard all, do not answer hastily. -Reflect upon the consequences which hang on your decision, and bear in -mind that you have to make that decision before I leave you. I am to -bear your answer to him to-night; he is waiting in my rooms to receive -it." - -Then, softening down all that was harsh in the proposal and magnifying -all its better points, Dr. Spenlove related to her what had passed -between Mr. Gordon and himself. She listened in silence, and he could -not judge from her demeanour whether he was to succeed or to fail. -Frequently she turned her face from his tenderly-searching gaze, as -though more effectually to conceal her thoughts from him. When he -finished speaking she showed that she had taken to heart his counsel -not to decide hastily, for she did not speak for several minutes. Then -she said plaintively,-- - -"There is no appeal, doctor?" - -"None," he answered, in a decisive tone. - -"He sought you out and made you his messenger, because of his -impression that you had influence with me, and would advise me for my -good?" - -"As I have told you, in his own words, as nearly as I have been able -to recall them." - -"He was right. There is no man in the world I honour more than I -honour you. I would accept what you say against my own convictions, -against my own feelings. Advise me, doctor. My mind is distracted; I -cannot be guided by it. You know what I am, you know what I have been, -you foresee the future that lies before me. Advise me." - -The moment he had dreaded had arrived. The issue was with him. He felt -that this woman's fate was in his hands. - -"My advice is," he said, in a low tone, "that you accept Mr. Gordon's -offer." - -"And cast aside a mother's duty?" - -"What did you cast aside," he asked, sadly, "when you went with your -child on such a night as this towards the sea?" - -She shuddered. She would not look at her child; with stern resolution -she kept her eyes from wandering to the spot upon which the infant -lay; she even moved away from the little body so that she should not -come in contact with it. - -A long silence ensued, which Dr. Spenlove dared not break. - -"I cannot blame him," she then said, her voice, now and again, broken -by a sob, "for making conditions. It is his respectability that is at -stake, and he is noble and generous for taking such a risk upon -himself. There is a law for the man and a law for the woman. Oh, I -know what I am saying, doctor; the lesson has been driven into my -soul, and I have learnt it with tears of blood. One of these laws is -white, the other black, and justice says it is right. It is our -misfortune that we bear the children, and that their little fingers -clutch our heart-strings. It would be mockery for me to say that I -love my child with a love equal to that I should have felt if she had -come into the world without the mark of shame with which I have -branded her. With my love for her is mingled a loathing of myself, a -terror of the living evidence of my fall. But I love her, doctor, I -love her--and never yet so much as now when I am asked to part with -her! What I did a while ago was done in a frenzy of despair. I had no -food, you see, and she was crying for it; and the horror and the -anguish of that hour may overpower me again if I am left as I am. I -will accept Mr. Gordon's offer, and I will be as good a wife to him as -it is in my power to be; but I, also, have a condition to make. Mr. -Gordon is much older than I, and it may be that I shall outlive him. -The condition I make is--and whatever the consequences I am determined -to abide by it--that in the event of my husband's death, and of there -being no children of our union, I shall be free to seek the child I am -called upon to desert. In everything else I will perform my part of -the contract faithfully. Take my decision to Mr. Gordon, and if it is -possible for you to return here to-night with his answer, I implore -you to do so. I cannot close my eyes, I cannot rest, until I hear the -worst. God alone knows on which side lies the right, on which the -wrong!" - -"I will return with his answer," said Dr. Spenlove, "to-night." - -"There is still something more," she said, in an imploring tone, "and -it must be a secret sacredly kept between you and me. It may happen -that you will become acquainted with the name of the guardian of my -child. I have a small memorial which I desire he shall retain until -she is of age, say until she is twenty-one, or until, in the event of -my husband's death, I am free to seek her in years to come. If you do -not discover who the guardian is, I ask you to keep this memorial for -me until I reclaim it; which may be, never! Will you do this for me?" - -"I will." - -"Thank you for all your goodness to me. But I have nothing to put the -memorial in. Could you add to your many kindnesses by giving me a -small box which I can lock and secure? Dear Dr. Spenlove, it is a -mother who will presently be torn from her child who implores you!" - -He bethought him of a small iron box he had at home, which contained -some private papers of his own. He could spare this box without -inconvenience to himself, and he promised to bring it to her; and so, -with sincere words of consolation, he left her. - -In the course of an hour he returned. Mr. Gordon had consented to the -condition she imposed. - -"Should I be thankful or not?" she asked, wistfully. - -"You should be thankful," he replied. "Your child, rest assured, will -have a comfortable and happy home. Here is the box and the key. It is -a patent lock; no other key can open it. I will show you how to use -it. Yes, that is the way." He paused a moment, his hand in his pocket. -"You will be ready to meet Mr. Gordon at two to-morrow?" - -"And my child?" she asked, with tears in her voice. "When will she be -taken from me?" - -"At twelve." His hand was still fumbling in his pocket, and he -suddenly shook his head, as if indignant with himself. "You may want -to purchase one or two little things in the morning. Here are a few -shillings. Pray accept them." - -He laid on the table the money with which he had intended to pay his -fare to London. - -"Heaven reward you," said the grateful woman, "and make your life -bright and prosperous." - -Her tears bedewed his hand as she kissed it humbly, and Dr. Spenlove -walked wearily home, once more penniless, but not entirely unhappy. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - WHAT WAS PUT IN THE IRON BOX. - - -The mother's vigil with her child on this last night was fraught with -conflicting emotions of agony and rebellion. Upon Dr. Spenlove's -departure she rose and dressed herself completely, all her thoughts -and feelings being so engrossed by the impending separation that she -took no heed of her damp clothes. She entertained no doubt that the -renunciation was imperative and in the interest of her babe; nor did -she doubt that the man who had dictated it was acting in simple -justice to himself and in a spirit of mercy towards her; but she was -in no mood to regard with gratitude one who in the most dread crisis -in her life had saved her from destruction. The cause of this -injustice lay in the fact that until this moment the true maternal -instinct had not been awakened within her breast. As she had -faithfully expressed it to Dr. Spenlove, the birth of her babe had -filled her with terror and with a loathing of herself. Had there been -no consequences of her error apparent to the world she would have -struggled on and might have been able to preserve her good name; her -dishonour would not have been made clear to censorious eyes; but the -living evidence of her shame was by her side, and, left to her own -resources, she had conceived the idea that death was her only refuge. -Her acceptance of the better course that had been opened for her -loosened the floodgates of tenderness for the child who was soon to be -torn from her arms. Love and remorse shone in her eyes as she knelt by -the bedside and fondled the little hands and kissed the innocent lips. - -"Will you not wake, darling," she murmured, "and let me see your dear -eyes? Wake, darling, wake! Do you not know what is going to happen? -They are going to take you from me. Perhaps we shall never meet again; -and if we do, you have not even a name by which I can call you. But -perhaps that will not matter. Surely you will know your mother, surely -I shall know my child, and we shall fly to each other's arms. I want -to tell you all this--I want you to hear it. Wake, sweet, wake!" - -The child slept on. Presently she murmured, "It is hard, it is hard! -How can God permit such cruelty?" - -Half an hour passed in this way, and then she became more composed. -Her mind, which had been unbalanced by her misfortunes, recovered its -equilibrium, and she could reason with comparative calmness upon the -future. In sorrow and pain she mentally mapped out the years to come. -She saw her future, as she believed, a joyless life, a life of cold -duty. She would not entertain the possibility of a brighter side, the -possibility of her becoming reconciled to her fate, of her growing to -love her husband, of her having other children who would be as dear to -her as this one was. In the state of her feelings it seemed to her -monstrous to entertain such ideas, a wrong perpetrated upon the babe -she was deserting. In dogged rebellion she hugged misery to her -breast, and dwelt upon it as part of the punishment she had brought -upon herself. There was no hope of happiness for her in the future, -there was no ray of light to illumine her path. For ever would she be -thinking of the child for whom now, for the first time since its -birth, she felt a mother's love, and who was henceforth to find a home -among strangers. - -In this hopeless fashion did she muse for some time, and then a star -appeared in her dark sky. She might, as she had suggested to Dr. -Spenlove, survive her husband; it was more than possible, it was -probable, and, though there was in the contemplation a touch of -treason towards the man who had come to her rescue, she derived -satisfaction from it. In the event of his death she must adopt some -steps to prove that the child was hers, and that she, and she alone, -had the sole right to her. No stranger should keep her darling from -her, should rob her of her reward for the sufferings she had -undergone. It was for this reason that she had asked Dr. Spenlove for -the iron box. - -It was a compact, well-made box, and very heavy for its size. Any -person receiving it as a precious deposit, under the conditions she -imposed, might, when it was in his possession, reasonably believe that -it contained mementoes of price, valuable jewels, perhaps, which she -wished her child to wear when she grew to womanhood. She had no such -treasure. Unlocking the box she took from her pocket a packet of -letters, which she read with a bitterness which displayed itself -strongly in her face, which made her quiver with passionate -indignation. - -"The villain!" she muttered. "If he stood before me now, I would -strike him dead at my feet." - -There was no lingering accent of tenderness in her voice. The love she -had for him but yesterday was dead, and for the father of her child -she had now only feelings of hatred and scorn. Clearly she was a woman -of strong passions, a woman who could love and hate with ardour. - -The letters were four in number, and had been written, at intervals of -two or three weeks, by the man who had betrayed and deserted her. The -language was such as would have deceived any girl who had given him -her heart. The false fervour, the protestations of undying love, the -passionate appeals to put full trust in his honour, were sufficient to -stamp the writer as a heartless villain, and, if he aped -respectability, to ruin him in the eyes of the world. Cunning he must -have been to a certain extent, but it was evident that, in thus -incriminating himself and supplying proofs of his perfidy, he had -forgotten his usual caution. Perhaps he had been for a short time -under a delusion that in his pursuit of the girl he was acting -honourably and sincerely, or perhaps (which is more likely), finding -that she held back, he was so eager to win her that he addressed her -in the only way by which he could compass his desire. The last of the -four letters contained a solemn promise of marriage if she would leave -her home, and place herself under his protection. It even went so far -as to state that he had the license ready, and that it was only her -presence that was needed to ratify their union. There was a reference -in this letter to the engagement between her and Mr. Gordon, and the -writer declared that it would bring misery upon her. "Release yourself -from this man," he continued, "at once and for ever. It would be a -living death. Rely upon my love. All my life shall be devoted to the -task of making you happy, and you shall never have occasion for one -moment's regret that you have consented to be guided by me." She read -these words with a smile of bitter contempt on her lips, and a burning -desire in her heart for revenge. - -"If there is justice in heaven," she muttered, "a day will come!" - -Then she brought forward a photograph of the betrayer, which, with the -letters, she deposited in the box. This done, she locked the box, and -tying the key to a bit of string, hung it round her neck, and allowed -it to fall, hidden, in her bosom. - -Seating herself by the bedside, she gazed upon the babe from whom she -was soon to be torn. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her sad -thoughts, shaped in words, ran somewhat in this fashion: - -"In a few hours she will be taken from me; in a few short hours we -shall be separated, and then, and then--ah, how can I know it and -live!--an ocean of waters will divide us. She will not miss me; she -does not know me. She will receive another woman's endearments; she -will never bestow a thought upon me, her wretched mother, and I--I -shall be for ever thinking of her! She is all my own now; presently I -shall have no claim upon her. Would it not be better to end it as I -had intended--to end it now, this moment!" She rose to her feet, and -stood with her lips tightly pressed and her hands convulsively -clenched; and then she cried in horror, "No, no! I dare not--I dare -not! It would be murder, and he said that God would not forgive me. -Oh, my darling, my darling, it is merciful that you are a baby, and do -not know what is passing in my mind! If you do not love me now, you -may in the future, when I shall be free, and then you shall feel how -different is a mother's love from the love of a strange woman. But how -shall I recognise you if you are a woman before we meet again--how -shall I prove to you, to the world, that you are truly mine? Your eyes -will be black, as mine are, and your hair, I hope, will be as dark, -but there are thousands like that. I am grateful that you resemble me, -and not your base father, whom I pray God to strike and punish. Oh, -that it were ever in my power to repay him for his treachery, to say -to him, 'As you dragged me down, so do I drag you down! As you ruined -my life, so do I ruin yours!' But I cannot hope for that. The woman -weeps, the man laughs. Never mind, child, never mind. If in future -years we are reunited, it will be happiness enough. Dark hair, black -eyes, small hands and feet. Oh, darling, darling!" She covered the -little hands and feet with kisses. "And yes, yes"--with feverish -eagerness she gazed at the child's neck--"these two tiny moles, like -those on my neck. I shall know you, I shall know you, I shall be able -to prove that you are my daughter!" - -With a lighter heart she resumed her seat, and set to work mending the -infant's scanty clothing, which she fondled and kissed as though it -had sense and feeling. A church clock in the distance tolled five. She -had been listening for the hour, hoping it was earlier. - -"Five o'clock!" she muttered. "I thought it was not later than three. -I am being robbed. Oh, if time would only stand still! Five o'clock! -In seven hours she will be taken from me. Seven hours--seven short -hours! I will not close my eyes." - -But after awhile her lids drooped, and she was not conscious of it. -The abnormal fatigues of the day and night, the relaxing of the -overstrung nerves, the warmth of the room, produced their effect; her -head sank upon the bed, and she fell into a dreamful sleep. - -It was merciful that her dreaming fancies were not drawn from the -past. The psychological cause of her slumbers being beguiled by bright -visions may be found in the circumstance that, despite the conflicting -passions by which she had been agitated, the worldly ease which was -secured to her and her child by Mr. Gordon's offer had removed a heavy -weight from her heart. In her visions she saw her baby grow into a -happy girlhood; she had glimpses of holiday times, when they were -together in the fields or by the seaside, or walking in the glow of -lovely sunsets, gathering flowers in the hush of the woods, or winding -their way through the golden corn. In these fair dreams her baby -passed from girlhood to womanhood, and happy smiles wreathed the lips -of the woe-worn woman as she lay in her poor garments on the humble -bed by the side of her child. - -"Do you love me, darling?" asked the sleeping mother. - -"Dearly, dearly," answered the dream-child. "With my whole heart, -mother." - -"Call me mother again. It is like the music of the angels." - -"Mother, mother!" - -"You will love me always, darling?" - -"Always, mother; for ever and ever and ever." - -"Say that you will never love me less, that you will never forget me." - -"I will never love you less; I will never forget you." - -"Darling child, how beautiful you are! There is not in the world a -lovelier woman. It is for me to protect and guard you. I can do so: I -have had experience. Come, let us rest." - -They sat upon a mossy bank, and the mother folded her arms around her -child, who lay slumbering on her breast. - -There had been a few blissful days in this woman's life, during which -she had believed in man's faithfulness and God's goodness, but the -dreaming hours she was now enjoying were fraught with a heavenly -gladness. Nature and dreams are the fairies of the poor and the -afflicted. - -She awoke as the church clock chimed eight. Again had she to face the -stern realities of life. The sad moment of separation was fast -approaching. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - MR. MOSS PLAYS HIS PART. - - -At five o'clock on the afternoon of that day Dr. Spenlove returned to -his apartments. Having given away the money with which he had intended -to pay his fare to London, he had bethought him of a gentleman living -in Southsea of whom he thought he could borrow a sovereign or two for -a few weeks. He had walked the distance, and had met with -disappointment; the gentleman was absent on business, and might be -absent several days. - -"Upon my word," said the good doctor, as he drearily retraced his -steps, "it is almost as bad as being shipwrecked; worse, because there -are no railways on desert islands. What on earth am I to do? Get to -London I must, by hook or by crook, and there is absolutely nothing I -can turn into money." - -Then he bethought himself of Mr. Moss, and in his extremity determined -to make an appeal in that quarter. Had it not been for what had -occurred last night, he would not have dreamed of going to this -gentleman, of whose goodness of heart he had had no previous -experience, and upon whose kindness he had not the slightest claim. -Arriving at Mr. Moss's establishment, another disappointment attended -him. Mr. Moss was not at home, and they could not say when he would -return. So Dr. Spenlove, greatly depressed, walked slowly on, his mind -distressed with troubles and perplexities. - -He had seen nothing more of Mr. Gordon, who had left him in the early -morning with a simple acknowledgment in words of the service he had -rendered; nor had he seen anything further of Mrs. Turner. On his road -home he called at her lodgings, and heard from her fellow-lodger that -she had left the house. - -"We don't know where she's gone to, sir," the woman said; "but the -rent has been paid up, and a sovereign was slipped under my door. If -it wasn't that she was so hard up I should have thought it came from -her." - -"I have no doubt it did," Dr. Spenlove answered. "She has friends who -are well-to-do, and I know that one of these friends, discovering her -position, was anxious to assist her." - -"I am glad to hear it," said the woman; "and it was more than kind of -her to remember me. I always had an idea that she was above us." - -As he was entering his room his landlady ran up from the kitchen. - -"Oh, doctor, there's a parcel and two letters for you in your room, -and Mr. Moss has been here to see you. He said he would come again." - -"Very well, Mrs. Radcliffe," said Dr. Spenlove; and, cheered by the -news of the promised visit, he passed into his apartment. On the table -were the letters and the parcel. The latter, carefully wrapped in -thick brown paper, was the iron box he had given to Mrs. Turner. One -of the letters was in her handwriting, and it informed him that her -child had been taken away and that she was on the point of leaving -Portsmouth. - -"I am not permitted," the letter ran, "to inform you where I am going, -and I am under the obligation of not writing to you personally after I -leave this place. This letter is sent without the knowledge of the -gentleman for whom you acted, and I do not consider myself bound to -tell him that I have written it. What I have promised to do I will do -faithfully, but nothing further. You, who of all men in the world -perhaps know me best, will understand what I am suffering as I pen -these lines. I send with my letter the box you were kind enough to -give me last night. It contains the memorial of which I spoke to you. -Dear Dr. Spenlove, I rely upon you to carry out my wishes with respect -to it. If you are acquainted with the guardian of my child, convey it -to him, and beg him to retain it until my darling is of age, or until -I am free to seek her. It is not in your nature to refuse the petition -of a heartbroken mother; it is not in your nature to violate a -promise. For all the kindnesses you have shown me receive my grateful -and humble thanks. That you will be happy and successful, and that God -will prosper you in all your undertakings, will be my constant prayer. -Farewell." - -Laying this letter aside he opened the second, which was in a -handwriting strange to him:-- - - -"Dear Sir,-- - -"All my arrangements are made, and the business upon which we spoke -together is satisfactorily concluded. You will find enclosed a -practical expression of my thanks. I do not give you my address for -two reasons. First, I desire no acknowledgment of the enclosure; -second, I desire that there shall be no correspondence between us upon -any subject. Feeling perfectly satisfied that the confidence I reposed -in you will be respected, - - "I am, - - "Your obedient servant, - - "G. Gordon." - -The enclosure consisted of five Bank of England notes for £20 each. - -Dr. Spenlove was very much astonished and very much relieved. At this -juncture the money was a fortune to him; there was a likelihood of its -proving the turning-point in his career; and, although it had not been -earned in the exercise of his profession, he had no scruple in -accepting it. The generosity of the donor was, moreover, in some sense -an assurance that he was sincere in all the professions he had made. - -"Mr. Moss, sir," said Mrs. Radcliffe, opening the door, and that -gentleman entered the room. - -As usual, he was humming an operatic air; but he ceased as he closed -the door, which, after a momentary pause, he reopened, to convince -himself that the landlady was not listening in the passage. - -"Can't be too careful, doctor," he observed, with a wink, "when you -have something you want to keep to yourself. You have been running -after me, and I have been running after you. Did you wish to see me -particularly?" - -"To tell you the truth," replied Dr. Spenlove, "I had a special reason -for calling upon you; but," he added, with a smile, "as it no longer -exists, I need not trouble you." - -"No trouble, no trouble at all. I am at your service, doctor. Anything -I could have done, or can do now, to oblige, you may safely reckon -upon. Within limits, you know, within limits." - -"Of course; but the necessity is obviated. I intended to ask you to -lend me a small sum of money without security, Mr. Moss." - -"I guessed as much. You should have had it, doctor, and no inquiries -made, though it isn't the way I usually conduct my business; but there -are men you can trust and are inclined to trust, and there are men you -wouldn't trust without binding them down hard and fast. Now, if you -still need the money, don't be afraid to ask." - -"I should not be afraid, but I am in funds. I am not the less indebted -to you, Mr. Moss." - -"All right; I am glad you don't want a loan. Now for another -affair--_my_ affair, I suppose I must call it till I have shifted it -to other shoulders, which will soon be done." - -He paused a moment. - -"Dr. Spenlove, that was a strange adventure last night." - -"It was; a strange and sad adventure. You behaved very kindly, and I -should like to repay what you expended on behalf of the poor lady." - -"No, no, doctor; let it rest where it is. I don't acknowledge your -right to repay what you don't owe, and perhaps I am none the worse off -for what I did. Throw your bread on the waters, you know. My present -visit has reference to the lady--as you call her one, I will do the -same--we picked out of the snow last night. Did you ever notice that -things go in runs?" - -"I don't quite follow you." - -"A run of rainy weather, a run of fine weather, a run of good fortune, -a run of ill fortune." - -"Yes, I have observed it." - -"You meet a person to-day you have never seen or heard of before. The -odds are that you will meet that person to-morrow, and probably the -next day as well. You begin to have bad cards, you go on having bad -cards; you begin to make money, you go on making money." - -"You infer that there are seasons of circumstances, as of weather. No -doubt you are right." - -"I know I am right. Making the acquaintance of your friend, Mrs. -Turner, last night, in a very extraordinary manner, I am not at all -surprised that I have business in hand in which she is concerned. You -look astonished; but it is true. You gave her a good character, -doctor." - -"Which she deserves. It happens in life to the best of us that we find -ourselves unexpectedly in trouble. Misfortune is a visitor that does -not knock at the door; it enters unannounced." - -"We have unlocked the door ourselves, perhaps," suggested Mr. Moss, -sagely. - -"Quite likely, but we have done so in a moment of trustfulness, -deceived by specious professions. The weak and confiding become the -victims." - -"It is the way of the world, doctor. Hawks and pigeons, you know." - -"There are some who are neither," said Dr. Spenlove, who was not -disposed to hurry his visitor. - -His mind was easy as to his departure from Portsmouth, and he divined -from the course the conversation was taking that Mr. Moss had news of -a special nature to communicate. He deemed it wisest to allow him to -break it in his own way. - -"They are the best off," responded Mr. Moss; "brains well balanced--an -even scale, doctor--then you can steer straight and to your own -advantage. Women are the weakest, as you say; too much heart, too much -sentiment. All very well in its proper place, but it weighs one side -of the scale down. Mrs. Moss isn't much better than other women in -that respect. She has her whims and crotchets, and doesn't always take -the business view." - -"Implying that you do, Mr. Moss?" - -"Of course I do; should be ashamed of myself if I didn't. What do I -live for? Business. What do I live by? Business. What do I enjoy most? -Business, and plenty of it!" - -He rubbed his hands together joyously. - -"I should have no objection to paint on my shop door, 'Mr. Moss, -Business Man.' People would know it would be no use trying to get the -best of me. They don't get it as it is." - -"You are unjust to yourself. Was it business last night that made you -pay the cabman, and sent you out to buy coals and food for an -unfortunate creature you had never seen before?" - -"That was a little luxury," said Mr. Moss, with a sly chuckle, "which -we business men indulge in occasionally to sharpen up our faculties. -It is an investment, and it pays; it puts us on good terms with -ourselves. If you think I have a bit of sentiment in me you are -mistaken." - -"I paint your portrait for myself," protested Dr. Spenlove, "and I -shall not allow you to disfigure it. Granted that you keep as a rule -to the main road--Business Road, we will call it, if you like----" - -"Very good, doctor, very good." - -"You walk along, driving bargains, and making money honestly----" - -"Thank you, doctor," interposed Mr. Moss, rather gravely. "There are -people who don't do us so much justice." - -"When unexpectedly," continued Dr. Spenlove, with tender gaiety, "you -chance upon a little narrow path to the right or the left of you, and, -your eye lighting on it, you observe a stretch of woodland, a touch of -bright colour, a picture of human suffering, that appeals to your -poetical instinct, to your musical tastes, or to your humanity. Down -you plunge towards it, to the confusion, for the time being, of -Business Road and its business attractions." - -"Sir," said Mr. Moss, bending his head with a dignity which did not -sit ill on him, "if all men were of your mind the narrow prejudices of -creed would stand a bad chance of making themselves felt. But we are -wandering from the main road of the purpose which brought me here. I -have not said a word to Mrs. Moss of the adventure of last night; I -don't quite know why, because a better creature doesn't breathe; but I -gathered from you in some way that you would prefer we should keep it -to ourselves. Mrs. Moss never complains of my being out late; she -rather encourages me, and that will give you an idea of the good wife -she is. 'Enjoyed yourself, Moss?' she asked when I got home. 'Very -much,' I answered, and that was all. Now, doctor, a business man -wouldn't be worth his salt if he wasn't a thinking man as well. After -I was dressed this morning I thought a good deal of the lady and her -child, and I came to the conclusion that you took more than an -ordinary interest in them." - -"You were right," said Dr. Spenlove. - -"Following your lead, which is a good thing to do if you've confidence -in your partner, I found myself taking more than an ordinary interest -in them; but as it wasn't a game of whist we were playing, I had no -clue to the cards you held. You will see presently what I am leading -up to. While I was thinking and going over some stock which I am -compelled by law to put up to auction, I received a message that a -gentleman wished to see me on very particular private business. It was -then about half-past nine, and the gentleman remained with me about an -hour. When he went away he made an appointment with me to meet him at -a certain place at twelve o'clock. I met him there; he had a carriage -waiting. I got in, and where do you think he drove me?" - -"I would rather you answered the question yourself," said Dr. -Spenlove, his interest in the conversation receiving an exciting -stimulus. - -"The carriage, doctor, stopped at the house to which we conveyed your -lady friend and her child last night. I opened my eyes, I can tell -you. Now, not to beat about the bush, I will make you acquainted with -the precise nature of the business the gentleman had with me." - -"Pardon me a moment," said Dr. Spenlove. "Was Mr. Gordon the -gentleman?" - -"You have named him," said Mr. Moss, and perceiving that Dr. Spenlove -was about to speak again, he contented himself with answering the -question. But the doctor did not proceed; his first intention had been -to inquire whether the business was confidential, and if so to decline -to listen to the disclosure which his visitor desired to make. A -little consideration, however, inclined him to the opinion that this -might be carrying delicacy too far. He was in the confidence of both -Mr. Gordon and Mrs. Turner, and it might be prejudicial to the mother -and her child if he closed his ears to the issue of the strange -adventure. He waved his hand, thereby inviting Mr. Moss to continue. - -"Just so, doctor," said Mr. Moss, in the tone of a man who had -disposed of an objection. "It is a singular business, but I have been -mixed up with all kinds of queer transactions in my time, and I always -give a man the length of his rope. What induced Mr. Gordon to apply to -me is his concern, not mine. Perhaps he had heard a good report of me, -and I am much obliged to those who gave it; perhaps he thought I was a -tradesman who would take anything in pledge, from a flat iron to a -flesh and blood baby. Any way, if I choose to regard his visit as a -compliment, it is because I am not thin-skinned. Mr. Gordon informed -me that he wished to find a home and to provide for a young baby whose -mother could not look after it, being imperatively called away to a -distant part of the world. Had it not been that the terms he proposed -were extraordinarily liberal, and that he gave me the names of an -eminent firm of lawyers in London who had undertaken the financial -part of the business, and had it not been, also, that as he spoke to -me I thought of a friend whom it might be in my power to serve, I -should have shut him up at once by saying that I was not a baby -farmer, and by requesting him to take his leave. Interrupting myself, -and as it was you who first mentioned the name of Mr. Gordon, I think -I am entitled to ask if you are acquainted with him?" - -"You are entitled to ask the question. I am acquainted with him." - -"Since when, doctor?" - -"Since last night only." - -"Before we met?" - -"Yes, before we met." - -"May I inquire if you were then acting for Mr. Gordon?" - -"To some extent. Had it not been for him I should not have gone in -search of Mrs. Turner." - -"In which case," said Mr. Moss, in a grave tone, "she and her child -would have been found dead in the snow. That is coming to first -causes, doctor. I have not been setting a trap for you in putting -these questions; I have been testing Mr. Gordon's veracity. When I -asked him whether I was the only person in Portsmouth whom he had -consulted, he frankly answered I was not. Upon this I insisted upon -his telling me who this other person was. After some hesitation he -said, 'Dr. Spenlove.' Any scruples I may have had were instantly -dispelled, for I knew that it was impossible you could be mixed up in -a business which had not a good end." - -"I thank you." - -"Hearing your name I thought at once of the lady and her child whom we -were instrumental in saving. Am I right in my impression that you are -in possession of the conditions and terms Mr. Gordon imposes?" - -"I am." - -"Then I need not go into them. I take it, Dr. Spenlove, that you do -not consider the business disreputable." - -"It is not disreputable. Mr. Gordon is a peculiar man, and his story -in connection with the lady in question is a singular one. He is not -the father of the child, and the action he has taken is not prompted -by a desire to rid himself of a responsibility. On the contrary, out -of regard for the lady he has voluntarily incurred a very heavy -responsibility, which I have little doubt--none, indeed--that he will -honourably discharge." - -"I will continue. Having heard what Mr. Gordon had to say--thinking -all the time of the friend who might be induced to adopt the child, -and that I might be able to serve him--I put the gentleman to the -test. Admitting that his terms were liberal, I said that a sum of -money ought to be paid down at once, in proof of his good faith. 'How -much?' he asked. 'Fifty pounds,' I answered. He instantly produced the -sum, in bank-notes. Then it occurred to me that it would make things -still safer if I had an assurance from the eminent firm of London -lawyers that the business was honourable and met with their approval; -and if I also had a notification from them that they were prepared to -pay the money regularly. 'Send them a telegram,' suggested Mr. Gordon, -'and make it full and complete. I will write a shorter one, which you -can send at the same time. Let the answers be addressed here, and open -them both yourself when they arrive, which should be before twelve -o'clock.' The telegrams written, I took them to the office; and before -twelve came the replies, which were perfectly satisfactory. Everything -appeared to be so straightforward that I undertook the business. A -singular feature in it is that Mr. Gordon does not wish to know with -whom the child is placed. 'My lawyers will make inquiries,' he said, -'and they will be content if the people are respectable.' Dr. -Spenlove, I thought it right that you should be informed of what I -have done; you have expressed your approval, and I am satisfied. Don't -you run away with the idea that I have acted philanthropically. -Nothing of the kind, sir; I have been paid for my trouble. And now, if -you would like to ask any questions, fire away." - -"Were no conditions of secrecy imposed upon you?" - -"Yes; but I said that I was bound to confide in one person. He may -have thought I meant Mrs. Moss, but it was you I had in my mind. I -promised that it should go no further, and I do not intend that it -shall. Mrs. Moss will be none the worse for not being let into the -secret." - -"Where is the child now?" - -"In the temporary care of a respectable woman, who is providing -suitable clothing for it, Mr. Gordon having given me money for the -purpose." - -"He has not spared his purse. When do you propose taking the child to -her new home?" - -"To-night." - -"They are good people?" - -"The best in the world. I would trust my own children with them. She -cannot help being happy with them." - -"Do they live in Portsmouth?" - -"No; in Gosport. I think this is as much as I have the right to -disclose." - -"I agree with you. Mr. Moss, you can render me an obligation, and you -can do a kindness to the poor child's mother. She has implored me to -endeavour to place this small iron box in the care of the guardians of -her child, to be retained by them for twenty-one years, or until the -mother claims it, which she will be free to do in the event of her -husband dying during her lifetime. I do not know what it contains, and -I understand that it is to be given up to no other person than the -child or her mother. Will you do this for me or for her?" - -"For both of you, doctor," replied Mr. Moss, lifting the box from the -table. "It shall be given into their care, as the mother desires. And -now I must be off; I have a busy night before me. Do you go to London -to-morrow?" - -"A train leaves in a couple of hours; I shall travel by that." - -"Well, good-night, and good luck to you. If you want to write to me, -you know my address." - -They parted with cordiality, and each took his separate way, Dr. -Spenlove to the City of Unrest, and Mr. Moss to the peaceful town of -Gosport, humming as he went, among other snatches from his favourite -opera,-- - - - "Dio dell' or del mondo signor, - Sei possente risplendente, - Sei possente resplendente, - Culto hai tu maggior guaggiù. - Non v'ha un uom che non t'incensi - Stan prostati innanzi a te; - Ed i popolied i re; - I bei scudi tu dispensi, - Del la terra il Dio sei tu." - - - - - - BOOK THE SECOND. - - _RACHEL_. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - THE VISION IN THE CHURCHYARD. - - -Some twelve months before the occurrence of the events recorded in the -preceding chapters, a Jew, bearing the name of Aaron Cohen, had come -to reside in the ancient town of Gosport. He was accompanied by his -wife, Rachel. They had no family, and their home was a home of love. - -They were comparatively young, Aaron being twenty-eight and Rachel -twenty-three, and they had been married five years. Hitherto they had -lived in London, and the cause of their taking up their residence in -Gosport was that Aaron had conceived the idea that he could establish -himself there in a good way of business. One child had blessed their -union, whom they called Benjamin. There was great rejoicing at his -birth, and it would have been difficult to calculate how many -macaroons and almond and butter cakes, and cups of chocolate and -glasses of anise-seed, were sacrificed upon the altar of hospitality -in the happy father's house for several days after the birth of his -firstborn. "Aaron Cohen does it in style," said the neighbours; and as -both he and Rachel were held in genuine respect by all who knew them, -the encomium was not mere empty praise. Seldom even in the locality in -which the Cohens then resided--the East End of London, where charity -and hospitality are proverbial--had such feasting been seen at the -celebration of a circumcision. "If he lived in Bayswater," said the -company, "he couldn't have treated us better." And when the father -lifted up his voice and said, "Blessed art Thou, the Eternal, our God, -King of the universe, who hath sanctified us with His commandments, -and commanded us to introduce our sons into the covenant of our father -Abraham," there was more than usual sincerity in the response, "Even -as this child has now entered this covenant, so may he be initiated -into the covenant of the law, of marriage, and of good works." Perhaps -among those assembled there were some who could not have translated -into English the Hebrews' prayers they read so glibly; but this -reproach did not apply to Aaron, who was an erudite as well as an -orthodox Jew, and understood every word he uttered. On this memorable -day the feasting, commenced in the morning, was continued during the -whole day. "I wish you joy, Cohen, I wish you joy;" this was the -formula, a hundred and a hundred times repeated to the proud father, -who really believed that a prince had been born among Israel; while -the pale-faced mother, pressing her infant tenderly to her breast, and -who in her maidenhood had never looked so beautiful as now, received -in her bedroom the congratulations of her intimate female friends. The -poorest people in the neighbourhood were welcomed; and if the seed of -good wishes could have blossomed into flower, a rose-strewn path of -life lay before the child. "He shall be the son of my right hand," -said Aaron Cohen; and Rachel, as she kissed her child's mouth and -tasted its sweet breath, believed that Heaven had descended upon -earth, and that no mother had ever been blessed as she was blessed. -This precious treasure was the crowning of their love, and they laid -schemes for baby's youth and manhood before the child was out of long -clothes--schemes destined not to be realised. For sixteen months -Benjamin filled the hearts of his parents with ineffable joy, and then -the Angel of Death entered their house and bore the young soul away. -How they mourned for the dear one who was nevermore on earth to -rejoice them with his beautiful ways need not here be related; all -parents who have lost their firstborn will realise the bitterness of -their grief. But not for long was this grief bitter. In the wise and -reverent interpretation of Aaron Cohen, their loss became a source of -consolation to them. "Let us not rebel," he said to his wife, "against -the inevitable and Divine will. Give praise unto the Lord, who has -ordained that we shall have a child in heaven waiting to receive us." -Fraught with tenderness and wisdom were his words, and his counsel -instilled comfort into Rachel's heart. Benjamin was waiting for them, -and would meet them at the gates. Beautiful was the thought, radiant -the hope it raised, never, never to fade, nay, to grow brighter even -to her dying hour. Their little child, dead and in his grave, brought -them nearer to God. Heaven and earth were linked by the spirit of -their beloved, who had gone before them: thus was sorrow sweetened and -happiness chastened by faith. Sitting on their low stools during the -days of mourning, they spoke, when they were alone, of the peace and -joy of the eternal life, and thereby were drawn spiritually closer to -each other. The lesson they learned in the darkened room was more -precious than jewels and gold; it is a lesson which comes to all, high -and low alike, and rich indeed are they who learn it aright. For some -time thereafter, when the mother opened the drawer in which her most -precious possessions were kept, and kissed the little shoes her child -had worn, she would murmur amid her tears,-- - -"My darling is waiting for me, my darling is waiting for me!" - -God send to all sorrowing mothers a comfort so sweet! - -Aaron Cohen had selected a curious spot in Gosport for his habitation. -The windows of the house he had taken overlooked the quaint, peaceful -churchyard of the market town. So small and pretty was this -resting-place for the dead, that one might almost have imagined it to -be a burial ground for children's broken toys. The headless wooden -soldiers, the battered dolls, the maimed contents of cheap Noah's -arks, the thousand and one treasures of childhood might have been -interred there, glad to be at rest after the ruthless mutilations they -had undergone. For really, in the dawning white light of a frosty -morning, when every object for miles around sharply outlined itself in -the clear air and seemed to have lost its rotund proportions, it was -hard to realise that, in this tiny churchyard, men and women, whose -breasts once throbbed with the passions and sorrows of life, were -crumbling to that dust to which we must all return. No, no; it could -be nothing but the last home of plain and painted shepherds, and -bald-headed pets, and lambs devoid of fleece, and mayhap--a higher -flight which we all hope to take when the time comes for us to claim -our birthright of the grave--of a dead bullfinch or canary, carried -thither on its back, with its legs sticking heavenwards, and buried -with grown-up solemnity, and very often with all the genuineness of -grief for a mortal bereavement. Have you not attended such a funeral, -and has not your overcharged heart caused you to sob in your dreams as -you lay in your cot close to mamma's bed? - -But these fantastic fancies will not serve. It was a real human -churchyard, and Rachel Cohen knew it to be so as she stood looking out -upon it from the window of her bedroom on the first floor. It was from -no feeling of unhappiness that her sight became dimmed as she gazed -upon the tombstones. Shadows of children rose before her, the -pattering of whose little feet was once the sweetest music that ever -fell on parents' ears, the touch of whose little hands carried with it -an influence as powerful as a heart-stirring prayer; children with -golden curls, children with laughing eyes, children with wistful -faces; but there was one, ah! there was one that shone as a star amid -the shadows, and that rose up, up, till it was lost in the solemn -clouds, sending therefrom a Divine message down to the mother's heart, -"Mamma, mamma, I am waiting for thee!" - -Quiet as was everything around her, Rachel heard the words; in the -midst of the darkness a heavenly light was shining on her. - -She wiped the tears from her eyes, and stole down to the room in which -her husband was sitting. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - MR. WHIMPOLE INTRODUCES HIMSELF. - - -It was the front room of the house, on the ground floor, which Aaron -Cohen had converted into a shop. The small parlour windows had been -replaced by larger ones, a counter had been put up, behind which were -shelves fitted into the walls. These shelves at present were bare, but -Aaron Cohen hoped to see them filled. Under the counter were other -shelves, as empty as those on the walls. - -When Rachel entered her husband was engaged counting out his money, -like the king in his counting house. There was a studious expression -on his face, which was instantly replaced by one of deep tenderness as -he looked up and saw traces of tears in her eyes. He gathered his -money together, banknotes, silver, gold, and coppers, and motioned her -into the room at the rear of the shop. This was their living-room; but -a large iron safe in a corner denoted that it was not to be devoted -entirely to domestic affairs. In another corner was the symbol of his -business, which was to be affixed to the front of the premises, over -the shop door, the familiar device of three golden balls. - -Letting his money fall upon the table, he drew his wife to his side, -and passed his arm around her. - -"The house," he said, "is almost in order." - -"Yes, Aaron; there is very little left to do." - -"I am also ready for business. I have the license, and to-morrow those -glittering balls will be put up and the name painted over the shop -window. They are rather large for so small a shop, but they will -attract all the more attention." He gazed at her anxiously. "Do you -think you will be contented and happy here?" - -"Contented and happy anywhere with you," she replied, in a tone of the -deepest affection. - -"In this town especially, Rachel?" - -"Yes, in this town especially. It is so peaceful." - -"But," he said, touching her eyes with his fingers "these?" - -"Not because I am unhappy," she said; and her voice was low and sweet. -"I was looking out upon the churchyard from our bedroom window." - -"Ah!" he said, and he kissed her eyes. - -He divined the cause of her tears, and there was much tenderness in -his utterance of the monosyllable and in the kisses he gave her. Man -and wife for five years, they were still the fondest of lovers. - -"My dear," said Aaron presently, "the spirit of prophecy is upon me. -We shall lead a comfortable life in this town; we shall prosper in -this house. It was a piece of real good fortune my hitting upon it. -When I heard by chance that the man who lived here owned the lease and -wished to dispose of it, I hesitated before parting with so large a -sum as a hundred pounds for the purchase. It was nearly half my -capital, but I liked the look of the place, and a little bird -whispered that we should be lucky in it, so I made the venture. I am -certain we shall not regret it. Here shall be laid the foundation -stones of a fortune which shall enable us to set up our carriage. I -know what you would say, my life, that we can be happy without a -carriage. Yes, yes; but a carriage is not a bad thing to have. People -will say, 'See what a clever man that Aaron Cohen is. He commenced -with nothing, and he rides in his own carriage already. How grand he -looks!' I should like to hear people say that. There is a knock at the -street door." - -"Who can it be?" asked Rachel. "We know no one in Gosport, and it is -night." - -"Which is no excuse for our not opening the door," said Aaron Cohen, -sweeping the money off the table into a small chamois leather bag, -which he tied carefully at the neck, and put into his pocket. "True, -we believe we are not known here, but there may, nevertheless, be an -old acquaintance in Gosport who has heard of our arrival, and comes to -welcome us; or Judah Belasco may have told a friend of his we are -here; or it may be an enterprising baker or grocer who wishes to -secure our custom. No," he added, as the knock was repeated, "that is -not the knock of a tradesman. It is a knock of self-importance, and -you may depend upon it that it proceeds from Somebody with a large S. -Let us see who it is that announces himself so grandly." - -Aaron went to the street door, and Rachel followed him into the -passage, carrying a candle. The night was dark, and Rachel stood a -little in the rear, so that Aaron could not distinguish the features -of his visitor. He was a big man, and that was all that was apparent -to the Cohens. - -"Mr. Cohen?" queried the visitor - -"Yes," said Aaron. - -"Mr. Aaron Cohen?" - -"That is my name" - -"Can I speak with you?" - -"Certainly." - -And Aaron waited to hear what the stranger had to say. - -"I am not accustomed to be kept waiting on the doorstep. I should -prefer to speak to you in the house." - -Rachel, who was naturally timid, moved closer to her husband, who took -the candle from her hand, and held it up in order to see the face of -the stranger. - -"Step inside," he said. - -The stranger followed Aaron and Rachel into the little parlour, and -without taking off his hat, looked at Aaron, then at Rachel, and then -into every corner of the room; the last object upon which his eyes -rested was the device of the three golden balls, and a frown gathered -on his features as he gazed. Aaron noted these movements and signs -with attention and amusement. - -"Do you detect any blemish in them?" he asked. - -"I do not understand you," said the stranger. - -"In those balls. There was an expression of disapproval on your face -as you gazed at them." - -"I disapprove of them altogether," said the stranger. - -"I am sorry, but we cannot please everybody. I am not responsible for -the insignia; you will find the origin in the armorial bearings of the -Medici. That is a beautiful hat you have on your head." The stranger -stared at him. "Really," continued Aaron, blandly, "a beautiful hat; -it must have cost a guinea. A hat is a fine protection against the hot -rays of the sun; a protection, also, against the wind and the rain. -But in this room, as you may observe, we have neither wind, nor rain, -nor sun; and you may also observe that there is a lady present." The -stranger, reddening slightly, removed his hat, and placed it on the -table. "My wife," then said Aaron. - -The stranger inclined his head, with the air of a man acknowledging an -introduction to one of a lower station. The manner of this -acknowledgment was not lost upon Aaron. - -"My wife," he repeated courteously, "Mrs. Cohen." - -"I see," said the stranger, glancing again at Rachel with -condescension. "With your permission I will take a seat." - -It was distinctly at variance with the hospitable instincts of Aaron -Cohen that he did not immediately respond to this request. - -"You have the advantage of us," he said. "I have had the pleasure of -introducing my wife to you. Afford me the pleasure of introducing you -to my wife." - -With an ungracious air the stranger handed Aaron a visiting card, upon -which was inscribed the name of Mr. Edward Whimpole, and in a corner -the word "Churchwarden." Mr. Whimpole's movements were slow, and -intended to be dignified, but Aaron exhibited no impatience. - -"My dear, Mr. Edward Whimpole, churchwarden." - -Rachel bowed gracefully, and Aaron, with an easy motion of his hand, -invited Mr. Whimpole to a chair, in which he seated himself. Then -Aaron placed a chair for his wife, and took one himself, and prepared -to listen to what Mr. Whimpole had to say. - -Mr. Whimpole was a large-framed man with a great deal of flesh on his -face; his eyes were light, and he had no eyebrows worth speaking of. -The best feature in his face was his mouth, and the most insignificant -his nose, which was really not a fair nose for a man of his bulk. It -was an added injury inflicted upon him by nature that it was very thin -at the end, as though it had been planed on both sides. But then, as -Aaron had occasion to remark, we don't make our own noses. A distinct -contrast presented itself in the two noses which, if the figure of -speech may be allowed, now faced each other. - -Mr. Whimpole had not disclosed the purpose of his visit, but he had -already made it clear that he was not graciously disposed towards the -Jew. Aaron was quite aware of this, but the only effect it had upon -him was to render him exceedingly affable. Perhaps he scented a -bargain, and was aware that mental irritation would interfere with the -calm exercise of his judgment in a matter of buying and selling. - -"May I inquire," he said, pointing to the word "churchwarden" on the -card, "whether this is your business or profession?" - -"I am a corn-chandler," said Mr. Whimpole. - -"Churchwarden, my dear," said Aaron, addressing his wife in a pleasant -tone, "_and_ corn-chandler." - -For the life of him Mr. Whimpole could not have explained to the -satisfaction of persons not directly interested, why he was angry at -the reception he was meeting. That Aaron Cohen was not the kind of man -he had expected to meet would not have been accepted as a sufficient -reason. - -"I am not mistaken," said Mr. Whimpole, with a flush of resentment, -"in believing you to be a Jew?" - -"You are not mistaken," replied Aaron, with exceeding urbanity. "I am -a Jew. If I were not proud of the fact, it would be folly to attempt -to disguise it, for at least one feature in my face would betray me." - -"It would," said Mr. Whimpole, dealing a blow which had the effect of -causing Aaron to lean back in his chair, and laugh gently to himself -for fully thirty seconds. - -"When you have quite finished," said Mr. Whimpole, coldly, "we will -proceed." - -"Excuse me," said Aaron, drawing a deep breath of enjoyment. "I beg -you will not consider me wanting in politeness, but I have the -instincts of my race, and I never waste the smallest trifle, not even -a joke." A little tuft of hair which ran down the centre of Mr. -Whimpole's head--the right and left banks of which were devoid of -verdure--quivered in sympathy with the proprietor's astonishment. That -a man should make a joke out of that which was generally considered to -be a reproach and a humiliation was, indeed, matter for amazement; -nay, in this instance for indignation, for in Aaron Cohen's laughter -he, Mr. Whimpole himself, was made to occupy a ridiculous place. "We -are loth," continued Aaron, "to waste even the thinnest joke. We are -at once, my dear sir, both thrifty and liberal." - -"We!" exclaimed Mr. Whimpole, in hot repudiation. - -"We Jews I mean. No person in the world could possibly mistake you for -one of the chosen." - -"I should hope not. The idea is too absurd." - -"Make your mind easy, sir; you would not pass muster in a synagogue -without exciting remark. Yes, we are both thrifty and liberal, wasting -nothing, and in the free spending of our money seeing that we get good -value for it. That is not a reproach, nor is it a reproach that we -thoroughly enjoy an agreeable thing when we get it for nothing. There -are so many things in life to vex us that the opportunity of a good -laugh should never be neglected. Proceed, my dear sir, proceed; you -were saying that you believed you were not mistaken in taking me for a -Jew." - -"Is it your intention," asked Mr. Whimpole, coming now straight to the -point, "to reside in Gosport?" - -"If I am permitted," replied Aaron, meekly. "We have not always been -allowed to select our place of residence. I am thankful that we live -in an enlightened age and in a free country." - -"I hear, Mr. Cohen, that you have purchased the lease of this house." - -"It is true, sir. The purchase money has been paid, and the lease is -mine." - -"It has twenty-seven years to run." - -"Twenty-seven years and three months. Who can tell where we shall be, -and how we shall be situated, at the end of that time?" - -Mr. Whimpole waved the contemplation aside. - -"You gave a hundred pounds for the lease." - -"The precise sum; your information is correct." - -"I had some intention, Mr. Cohen, of buying it myself." - -"Indeed! Why did you not do so?" - -"There were reasons. Not pecuniary, I beg to say. I delayed too long, -and you stepped in before me." - -"A case of the early bird catching the worm," Aaron observed, with a -smile. - -"If it gratifies you to put it that way. I have, therefore, no option -but to purchase the lease of you." - -"Mr. Whimpole," said Aaron, after a slight pause, "I am agreeable to -sell you the lease." - -"I thought as much." And Mr. Whimpole disposed himself comfortably in -his chair. - -Rachel's eyes dilated in surprise. Their settlement in Gosport had not -been made in haste, and all arrangements for commencing the business -were made. She could not understand her husband's willingness to give -up the house. - -"I do not expect you to take what you gave for it," said Mr. Whimpole. -"I am prepared to give you a profit; and," he added, jocosely, "you -will not be backward in accepting it." - -"Not at all backward. You speak like a man of sense." - -"How much do you ask for your bargain? How much, Mr. Cohen? Don't open -your mouth too wide." - -"If you will permit me," said Aaron, and he proceeded to pencil down a -calculation. "It is not an undesirable house, Mr. Whimpole." - -"No, no; I don't say it is." - -"It is compact and convenient." - -"Fairly so, fairly so." - -"I will accept," said Aaron, having finished his calculation, "five -hundred pounds." - -"You cannot be in earnest!" gasped Mr. Whimpole, his breath fairly -taken away. - -"I am quite in earnest. Are you aware what it is you would buy of me?" - -"Of course I am aware; the lease of this house." - -"Not that alone. You would buy my hopes for the next twenty-seven -years; for I declare to you there is not to my knowledge in all -England a spot in which I so desire to pass my days as in this -peaceful town; and there is not in all Gosport a house in which I -believe I shall be so happy as in this. You see, you propose to -purchase of me something more than a parchment lease." - -"But the--the things you mention are of no value to me." - -"I do not say they are. I am speaking from my point of view, as men -generally do. It is a failing we all have, Mr. Whimpole. There is no -reason why we should bandy words. I am not anxious to sell the lease. -Wait till it is in the market." - -"A most unhealthy situation," observed Mr. Whimpole. - -"It concerns ourselves, and we are contented." - -"I cannot imagine a more unpleasant, not to say obnoxious, view." - -"The view of the churchyard? The spot has already acquired an -inestimable value in my eyes. God rest the souls of those who lie in -it! The contemplation of the peaceful ground will serve to remind me -of the vanity of life, and will be a constant warning to me to be fair -and straightforward in my dealings. The warning may be needed, for in -the business I intend to carry on, there are--I do not deny it--many -dangerous temptations." - -"Tush, tush!" exclaimed Mr. Whimpole, petulantly. "Straightforward -dealings, indeed! The vanity of life, indeed!" - -Aaron Cohen smiled. - -Only once before in his life had Mr. Whimpole felt so thoroughly -uncomfortable as at the present moment, and that was when he was a -little boy and fell into a bed of nettles from which he was unable to -extricate himself until he was covered with stings. It was just the -same now; he was smarting all over from contact with Aaron Cohen, who -was like a porcupine with sharp-pointed quills. But he would not -tamely submit to such treatment; he would show Aaron that he could -sting in return; he knew well enough where to plant his poisoned -arrow. - -It is due to Mr. Whimpole to state that he was not aware that the -manner in which he was conducting himself during this interview was -not commendable. Being a narrow-minded man, he could not take a wide -and generous view of abstract matters, which, by a perversion of -reasoning, he generally regarded from a purely personal standpoint. -Such men as he, in their jealous regard for their own feelings, are -apt to overlook the feelings of others, and, indeed, to behave -occasionally as if they did not possess any. This was Mr. Whimpole's -predicament, and, having met a ready-witted man, he was made to suffer -for his misconduct. He sent forth his sting in this wise: - -"You speak, Mr. Cohen, of being fair and straightforward in your -dealings; but, for the matter of that, we all know what we may expect -from a----" - -And having got thus far in his ungenerously-prompted speech, he felt -himself unable, in the presence of Rachel, and with her reproachful -eyes raised to his face, to conclude the sentence. Aaron Cohen -finished it for him. - -"For the matter of that," he said, gently, "you all know what you may -expect from a Jew. That is what you were going to say. And with this -thought in your mind you came to trade with me. Well, sir, it may be -that we both have something to learn." - -"Mr. Cohen," said Mr. Whimpole, slightly abashed, "I am sorry if I -have said anything to hurt your feelings." - -"The offence, sir, is atoned for by the expression of your sorrow." - -This was taking high ground, and Mr. Whimpole's choler was ready to -rise again; but he mastered it, and said, in a conciliatory tone,-- - -"I will disguise nothing from you; I was born in this house." - -"The circumstance will make it all the more valuable to us. My -dear,"--impressing it upon Rachel with pleasant emphasis--"Mr. -Whimpole was born in this house. A fortunate omen. Good luck will come -to us, as it has come to him. It is a low-rented house, and those who -have been born in it must have been poor men's children. When they -rise in the world as Mr. Whimpole has done, it is better than a -horseshoe over the door. In which room were you born, Mr. Whimpole?" - -"In the room on the back of the first floor," replied Mr. Whimpole, -making a wild guess. - -"Our bedroom. There should be a record on the walls; there should, -indeed, be a record, such as is placed outside those houses in London -which have been inhabited by famous people. Failing that, it is in the -power of every man, assuredly every rich man, to make for himself a -record that shall be unperishable--far better, my dear sir, than the -mere fixing of a plate on a cold stone wall." - -Mr. Whimpole gazed at Aaron Cohen to discover if there was any trace -of mockery in his face; but Aaron was perfectly grave and serious. - -"A man's humility," said Mr. Whimpole, raising his eyes to the -ceiling, "his sense of humbleness, would prevent him from making this -record for himself. It has to be left to others to do it when they -have found him out." - -"Aha! my dear sir," said Aaron, softly, "when they have found him out. -True, true; but how few of us are! How few of us receive our just -reward! How few of us when we are in our graves receive or deserve the -tribute, 'Here lies a perfect man!' But the record I speak of will -never be lost by a rich man's humility, by his humbleness; for it can -be written unostentatiously in the hearts of the poor by the aid of -silver and gold." - -"I understand you, Mr. Cohen,"--inwardly confounding Aaron's flow of -ideas--"by means of charity." - -"Yes, sir, by means of charity, whereby the name of a man becomes -sweet in the mouth. A good name is better than precious oil, and the -day of one's death better than the day of his birth. There is an old -legend that a man's actions in life are marked in the air above him, -in the places in which they are performed. There, in invisible space, -are inscribed the records of his good and bad deeds, of his virtues, -of his crimes; and when he dies his soul visits those places, and -views the immortal writing, which is visible to all the angels in -heaven and which covers him with shame or glory. Gosport doubtless has -many such records of your charity." - -"I do my best," said Mr. Whimpole, very much confused and mystified; -"I hope I do my best. I said I would disguise nothing from you; I will -therefore be quite frank, with no intention of wounding you. I am -strictly a religious man, Mr. Cohen, and it hurts me that one whose -religious belief is opposed to my own should inhabit the house in -which I was born. I will give you a hundred and twenty pounds for the -lease; that will leave you a profit of twenty pounds. Come, now!" - -"I will not accept less for it, sir, than the sum I named." - -"Is that your last word?" - -"It is my last word." - -Mr. Whimpole rose with a face of scarlet, and clapped his hat on his -head. "You are a--a----" - -"A Jew. Leave it at that. Can you call me anything worse?" asked -Aaron, with no show of anger. - -"No, I cannot. You are a Jew." - -"I regret," said Aaron, calmly, "that I cannot retort by calling you a -Christian. May our next meeting be more agreeable! Good-evening, Mr. -Whimpole." - -"You do not know the gentleman you have insulted," said Mr. Whimpole, -as he walked towards the door; "you do not know my position in this -town. I am in the expectation of being made a justice of the peace. -You will live to repent this." - -"I think not," said Aaron, taking the candle to show his visitor out. -"I trust you may." - -"You may find your residence in Gosport, where I am universally -respected, not as agreeable as you would wish it to be." - -"We shall see, we shall see," said Aaron, still smiling. "I may also -make myself respected here." - -"There is a prejudice against your race----" - -"Am I not aware of it? Is not every Jew aware of it? Is it not thrown -in our teeth by the bigoted and narrow-minded upon every possible -occasion? We will live it down, sir. We have already done much; we -will yet do more. Your use of the word 'prejudice' is appropriate; -for, as I understand its meaning, it represents a judgment formed -without proper knowledge. Yes, sir, it is not to be disputed that -there exists a prejudice against our race." - -"Which, without putting any false meaning upon it, will make this -ancient and respectable town"--here Mr. Whimpole found himself at a -loss, and he was compelled to wind up with the vulgar figure of -speech--"too hot to hold you." - -"This ancient town," said Aaron, with a deeper seriousness in his -voice, "is known to modern men as Gosport." - -"A clever discovery," sneered Mr. Whimpole. "Are you going to put -another of your false constructions on it?" - -"No, sir. I am about to tell you a plain and beautiful truth. When in -olden times a name was given to this place, it was not Gosport: it was -God's Port; and what Gods port is there throughout the civilised world -in which Jew and Christian alike have not an equal right to live, -despite prejudice, despite bigotry, and despite the unreasonable anger -of large corn-chandlers and respected churchwardens? I wish you, sir, -good-night." - -And having by this time reached the street door, Aaron Cohen opened it -for Mr. Whimpole, and bowed him politely out. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - THE COURSE OF THE SEASONS. - - -Upon Aaron's return to the little parlour he saw that Rachel was -greatly disturbed. - -"My life!" he said, and he folded her in his arms and tenderly -embraced her. "Don't allow such a little thing as this to distress -you; it will all come right in the end." - -"But how you kept your temper," she said; "that is what surprised me." - -"It gave me the advantage of him, Rachel. I was really amused." - -He pinched her cheeks to bring the colour back to them. - -"Some men must be managed one way, some another. And now for -our game of bezique. Mr. Whimpole's visit"--he laughed at the -recollection--"will make me enjoy it all the more." - -There was no resisting his light-heartedness, and he won a smile from -her, despite her anxiety. - -Rachel was not clever enough to discover that it was only by the -cunning of her husband that she won the rub of bezique. He was a keen -judge of human nature, and he knew that this small victory would help -to soothe her. - -The next day was Friday, and the three golden balls were put up, and -the name of Aaron Cohen painted over the shop door. A great many -people came to look, and departed to circulate the news. - -At one o'clock the painting was done, and then Aaron said to his wife, -"I shall be out till the evening. Have you found any one to attend to -the lights and the fire?" - -They were not rich enough to keep a regular servant, and neither of -them ever touched fire on the Sabbath. - -"I have heard of a woman," said Rachel; "she is coming this afternoon -to see me." - -"Good," said Aaron, and, kissing Rachel, went away with a light heart. - -In the afternoon the woman, Mrs. Hawkins, called, and Rachel explained -the nature of the services she required. Mrs. Hawkins was to come to -the house every Friday night to put coals on the fire and extinguish -the lights, and four times on Saturday to perform the same duties. -Rachel proposed eightpence a week, but Mrs. Hawkins stuck out for -tenpence, and this being acceded to, she departed, leaving a strong -flavour of gin behind her. - -When Aaron returned, the two Sabbath candles were alight upon the -snow-white tablecloth, and on the table a supper was spread--fried -fish, white bread, and fresh butter, and in the fender a steaming -coffeepot. Rachel was an excellent cook, and had always been famous -for her fried and stewed fish, which her husband declared were dishes -fit for kings; and, indeed, no one in the land could have desired -tastier or more succulent cooking. - -Aaron washed and said his prayers, and then they sat down to their -meal in a state of perfect contentment. The head of the modest -household broke two small pieces of bread from the loaf, and dipping -them in salt, besought the customary blessing on the bread they were -about to eat; then praised the fish, praised the butter, praised the -coffee, praised his wife, and after a full meal praised the Lord, in a -Song of Degrees, for blessings received: "When the Eternal restored -the captivity of Zion, we were as those who dream. Our mouths were -then filled with laughter, and our tongues with song." - -He had-a rich baritone voice, and Rachel listened in pious delight to -his intoning of the prayer. The supper things were cleared away, the -white tablecloth being allowed to remain because of the lighted -candles on it, which it would have been breaking the Sabbath to lift, -and then there came a knock at the street door. - -"That is the woman I engaged," said Rachel, hurrying into the passage. - -There entered, not Mrs. Hawkins, but a very small girl, carrying a -very large baby. The baby might have been eighteen months old, and the -girl ten years; and of the twain the baby was the plumper. - -Without "With your leave" or "By your leave," the small girl pushed -past Rachel before the astonished woman could stop her, and presented -herself before the no less astonished Aaron Cohen. Her sharp eyes took -in the lighted candles, the cheerful fire, and the master of the house -in one comprehensive flash. With some persons what is known as making -up one's mind is a slow and complicated process, with the small girl -it was electrical. She deposited the large baby in Aaron's lap, -admonishing the infant "to keep quiet, or she'd ketch it," blew out -the candles in two swift puffs, and, kneeling before the grate, -proceeded to rake out the coals. So rapid were her movements that the -fender was half filled with cinders and blazing coals before Rachel -had time to reach the room. - -"In Heaven's name," cried Aaron, "what is the meaning of this?" - -"It's all right, sir," said the small girl, in the dark; "I've come -for aunty." - -"Put down the poker instantly!" exclaimed Aaron. "Your aunty, whoever -she may be, is not here." - -"Tell me somethink I don't know," requested the small girl. "This is -Mr. Cohen's, the Jew, ain't it?" - -"It is," replied Aaron, with despairing gestures, for the baby was -dabbing his face with hands sticky with remnants of sugarstuff. - -"Well, wot are yer 'ollering for? I'm only doing wot aunty told me." - -"And who _is_ your aunty?" - -"Mrs. 'Orkins. Pretend not to know 'er--do! Oh yes, jest you try it -on. Aunty's up to yer, she is. She sed yer'd try to do 'er out of 'er -money, and want 'er to take fippence instid of tenpence." - -"Did she? You have come here by her orders, I suppose?" - -"Yes, I 'ave; to poke out the fire and blow out the candles, and I've -done it." - -"You have," said Aaron, ruefully. "And now, little girl, you will do -as _I_ tell you. Put down that poker. Get up. Feel on the mantelshelf -for a box of matches. I beg your pardon, you are too short to reach. -Here is the box. Take out a match. Strike it. Light the candles. Thank -you. Last, but not least, relieve me of this baby with the sticky -hands." - -The small girl snatched the baby from his arms and stood before him in -an attitude of defiance. For the first time he had a clear view of -her. - -"Heaven save us!" he cried, falling back in his chair. - -Her appearance was a sufficient explanation of his astonishment. To -say that she was ragged, and dirty, and forlorn, and as utterly unlike -a little girl living in civilised society as any little girl could -possibly be, would be but a poor description of her. Her face -suggested that she had been lying with her head in a coal scuttle; she -wore no hat or bonnet; her hair was matted; her frock reached just -below her knees, and might have been picked out of a dust-heap; she -had no stockings; on her feet were two odd boots, several sizes too -large for her and quite worn out, one tied to her ankle with a piece -of grey list, the other similarly secured with a piece of knotted -twine. Her eyes glittered with preternatural sharpness; her cheek -bones stuck out; her elbows were pointed and red; she was all -bone--literally all bone; there was not an ounce of flesh upon her, -not any part of her body that could be pinched with a sense of -satisfaction. But the baby! What a contrast! Her head was round and -chubby, and was covered with a mass of light curls; her hands were -full of dimples; her face was puffed out with superabundant flesh; the -calves of her legs were a picture. In respect of clothes she was no -better off than Mrs. Hawkins's niece. - -"Wot are yer staring at?" demanded the girl. "At you, my child," -replied Aaron, with compassion in his voice. - -"Let's know when yer done," retorted the girl, "and I'll tell yer 'wot -I charge for it." - -"And at baby," added Aaron. - -"That'll be hextra. Don't say I didn't warn yer." - -There were conflicting elements in the situation; its humour was -undeniable, but it had its pathetic side. Aaron Cohen was swayed now -by one emotion, now by another. - -"So you are Mrs. Hawkins's niece," he said, with a twinkle in his -eyes. - -"Yes, I am. Wot 'ave yer got to say agin it?" - -"Nothing. Is baby also Mrs. Hawkins's niece, or nephew?" - -"If you've no objections," said the girl, with excessive politeness, -"she's Mrs. Pond's little gal, and I nusses 'er." - -"I have no objection. What is your name?" - -"Wot it may be, my lordship," replied the girl, her politeness -becoming Arctic, "is one thing--wot it is, is another." - -"You are a clever little girl," said Aaron, smiling and rubbing his -hands, "a sharp, clever little girl." - -"Thank yer for nothink," said the girl. She had reached the North -Pole; it was necessary to thaw her. - -"Upon the mantelshelf," said Aaron, "just behind that beautiful blue -vase, are two penny pieces. Step on a chair--not that cane one, you'll -go through it; the wooden one--and see if you can find them." - -"I see 'em," said the girl, looking down upon Aaron in more senses -than one. - -"They are yours. Put them in your pocket." - -The girl clutched the pennies, jumped from the chair--whereat the baby -crowed, supposing it to be a game provided for her amusement--and -having no pocket, held the money tight in her hand. Visions of -sweetstuff rose before her. The pennies getting warm, the ice in the -North Pole began to melt. But there was a doubt in the girl's mind; -the adventure was almost too good to be true. - -"Yer don't get 'em back," she said; "stow larks, yer know." - -"I don't want them back. And now, perhaps, you will tell me your -name." - -"Prissy. That's the short 'un." - -"The long one is----" - -"Priscilla." - -"A grand name. You ought to have a silk gown, and satin shoes, and a -gold comb." Prissy opened her eyes very wide. The ice was melting -quickly, and the buds were coming on the trees. "And baby's name?" - -"Wictoria Rejiner. That's grander, ain't it?" - -"Much grander. Victoria Regina--a little queen!" Prissy gave baby a -kiss, with pride and love in her glittering eyes. "What makes your -face so black, Prissy?" - -"Coals. Aunty deals in 'em, and ginger-beer, and bundles of wood, and -cabbages, and taters, and oranges, and lemons. And she takes in -washing." - -"You look, Prissy, as if you had very little to eat." - -So genial was Aaron Cohen's voice that spring was coming on fast. - -"I don't 'ave much," said Prissy, with a longing sigh. "I could eat -all day and night if I 'ad the chance." - -"My dear," said Aaron to his wife, "there is some coffee left in the -pot. Do you like coffee, Prissy?" - -"Do I like corfey? Don't I like corfey! Oh no--not me! Jest you try -me!" - -"I will. Give me Victoria Regina. Poke the fire. That's right; you are -the quickest, sharpest little girl in my acquaintance. Pour some water -from the kettle into the coffee-pot. Set it on the fire. Rachel, my -dear, take Prissy and baby into the kitchen and let them wash -themselves, and afterwards they shall have some supper." - -The buds were breaking into blossom; it really was a lovely spring. - -In a few minutes Rachel and the children re-entered the room from -the kitchen, baby with a clean face, and Prissy with a painfully red -and shining skin. Following her husband's instructions, Rachel cut -half-a-dozen slices of bread, upon which she spread the butter with a -liberal hand. Prissy, hugging Victoria Regina, watched the proceedings -in silence. By this time the coffee was bubbling in the pot. - -"Take it off the fire, Prissy," said Aaron Cohen; and in another -minute the little girl, with baby in her lap, was sitting at the table -with a cup of smoking hot coffee, well sugared and milked, which she -was so eager to drink that she scalded her throat. The bread and -butter was perhaps the sweetest that Prissy had ever eaten, and the -coffee was nectar. The baby ate more than Prissy; indeed, she ate so -much and so quickly that she occasionally choked and had to be -violently shaken and patted on the back, but she became tired out at -last, and before Prissy had finished her bounteous meal she was fast -asleep in her nurse's arms. - -Aaron Cohen leaned back in his chair, and gazed with benevolent eyes -upon the picture before him; and as he gazed the sweetest of smiles -came to his lips, and did not leave them. Rachel, stealing to the back -of his chair, put her arms round his neck, and nestled her face to -his. - -It was a most beautiful summer, and all the trees were in flower. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - AARON COHEN PREACHES A SERMON ON LARGE NOSES. - - -The fire was burning brightly, and the old cat which they had brought -with them to Gosport was stretched at full length upon the hearthrug. -The children were gone, and Prissy had received instructions to come -again at ten o'clock to extinguish the candles. It may be said of -Prissy, in respect of her first visit to the house, that she came in -like a lion and went out like a lamb. - -It was a habit on Sabbath eve for Aaron to read to his wife something -from the general literature of the times, or from the newspapers, and -to accompany his reading with shrewd or sympathetic remarks, to which -Rachel always listened in delight. Occasionally he read from a book of -Hebrew prayers, and commented upon them, throwing a light upon poem -and allegory which made their meaning clear to Rachel's understanding. -Invariably, also, he blessed her as Jewish fathers who have not -wandered from the paths of orthodoxy bless their children on the -Sabbath. Now, as she stood before him, he placed his hand on her head, -and said,-- - -"God make thee like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah. May the Eternal -bless and preserve thee! May the Eternal cause His face to shine upon -thee, and be gracious unto thee! May the Eternal lift up His -countenance towards thee, and grant thee peace!" - -It was something more than a blessing; it was a prayer of heartfelt -love. Rachel raised her face to his, and they tenderly kissed each -other. Then he took his seat on one side of the fire, and she on the -other. A prayer-book and one of Charles Dickens's stories were on the -table, but he did not open them; he had matter for thought, and he was -in the mood for conversation. He was in a light humour, which -exhibited itself in a quiet laugh, which presently deepened in volume. - -"I am thinking of the little girl," he explained to Rachel. "It -was amazing the way she puffed out the candles and poked out the -fire--quick as lightning. It was the most comical thing! And her black -face--and Victoria Regina's sticky fingers! Ha, ha, ha!" - -His merriment was contagious, and it drew forth Rachel's; the room was -filled with pleasant sound. - -"I saw Mr. Whimpole to-day," said Aaron, "and I made him a bow, which -he did not return. My Jewish nose offends him. How unfortunate! Yes, -my life, no one can dispute that the Jew has a big nose. It proclaims -itself; it is a mark and a sign. He himself often despises it; he -himself often looks at it in the glass with aversion. 'Why, why, -have I been compelled to endure this affliction?' he murmurs, -and he reflects with envy upon the elegant nose of the Christian. -Short-sighted mortal, not to understand that he owes everything to his -big nose! A great writer--a learned man, who passed the whole of his -life in the study of these matters--proclaims the nose to be the -foundation, or abutment, of the brain. What follows? That the larger -is the nose of a man, the better off for it is the man. Listen, my -dear." He took a book from a little nest of bookshelves, and turned -over the pages. "'Whoever,' says this learned writer, 'is acquainted -with the Gothic arch will perfectly understand what I mean by this -abutment; for upon this the whole power of the arch of the forehead -rests, and without it the mouth and cheeks would be oppressed by -miserable ruins.' He lays down exact laws, which govern the beautiful -(and therefore the large) nose. Its length should equal the length of -the forehead, the back should be broad, its outline remarkably -definite, the sides well defined, and, near the eye, it must be at -least half an inch in breadth. Such a nose, this great authority -declares, is of more worth than a kingdom. It imparts solidity and -unity to the whole countenance; it is the mountain--bear in mind, my -dear, the mountain--that shelters the fair vales beneath. How proud, -then, should I be of my nose, which in some respects answers to this -description! Not in all, no, not in all. I am not so vain as to -believe that my nose is worth more than a kingdom; but when I am told -that a large nose is a sign of sensibility, and of good nature and -good humour, I cannot help a glow of conceited satisfaction stealing -over me. How many great men have you known with small noses? There -are, of course, exceptions, but I speak of the general rule. Our -co-religionist, Benjamin Disraeli--look at his nose; look at the noses -of all our great Jewish musicians and composers--it is because they -are of a proper size that they have become famous. Some time since in -London I had the opportunity of looking over a wonderful Bible--six -enormous volumes published by Mr. Thomas Macklin nearly a century -ago--embellished with grand pictures by the most eminent English -artists; and there I saw the figures of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, -and other ancestors of ours. There is not a small nose on one of the -faces of these great patriarchs and prophets. The great painters who -drew them had learned from their studies how to delineate the biblical -heroes. Moses the law-giver--what an administrator, what a grand -general was that hero, my dear! How thoroughly he understood men and -human nature! Aaron, the high priest; King Solomon, the man of wisdom; -Isaiah, the prophet and poet--they all had tremendous noses. A big -nose is a grand decoration, and I would sooner possess it than a bit -of red ribbon in my button-hole, or a star on my breast. Indeed, my -life, I have it--the nose of my forefathers!" Aaron made this -declaration in a tone of comic despair. "And, having it, I will not -part with it except with life." - -There was so much playful humour in the dissertation that Rachel -laughed outright. Her laugh was the sweetest in the world, and it fell -like music on Aaron's heart. He smiled, and there was a gleam in his -eyes, and presently he spoke again. - -"I am not aware whether you have ever observed the attraction a big -nose has for children. Take the most popular drama of all ages, 'Punch -and Judy.' Where is the artist who would venture to present Punch -with any but an enormous nose? Are the children frightened at it? No, -they revel in it. Do they sympathise with Judy when she is slain? Not -at all; every whack Punch gives her is greeted with shrieks of -laughter--because of his enormous nose. Introduce two strangers to a -baby, one with a very small nose, the other with a very big nose. Let -them both hold out their arms. Instinctively the baby flies to the man -with the large nose. It is nature's silent voice that instructs the -child. He or she--the sex is not material--instinctively knows which -is the better nose of the two, which is the most promising nose, the -most suggestive of kisses, and jumps in the air, and cakes, and songs, -and all that is dear to a child's heart. The test is infallible. -Nothing will convince me that you did not marry me because of my big -nose." - -"Indeed, dear," said Rachel, still laughing, "I hardly think I would -have married you without it." - -"Then the fact is established. I am about to make a confession to -you, Rachel; I am going to tell you the true reason for my choosing -this place to reside in, where I am separated by a long distance from -the friends of my youth and manhood, and where you, too, my dear -child"--in his moments of tenderness he occasionally addressed her -thus--"will, I fear, be for a time without friends to whom you can -unbosom yourself." - -"I have you, my dear husband," said Rachel, in a tone of deep -affection, drawing closer to him, and slipping her little hand into -his great hand. A fine, large, nervous hand was Aaron Cohen's; a -palmister would have seen great possibilities in it. Rachel's hand, -despite her domestic work, was the hand of a lady; she took a proper -pride in preserving its delicacy and beauty. "I have you, my dear -husband," she said. - -"Yes, my' life, but you used to kiss at least a dozen female friends a -day." - -"I kissed Prissy and the baby to-night." - -"When their faces were washed, I hope. Listen to my confession. -Pride and hard-heartedness drove me from the neighbourhood in which we -were married. A thousand pounds did my dear father--God rest his -soul!--bequeath to me. It dwindled and dwindled--my own fault; I could -not say No. One came to me with a melancholy tale which led to a -little loan; another came, and another, and another. I did not make -you acquainted with the extent of my transgressions. My dear, I -encouraged the needy ones; I even went out of my way to lend, thinking -myself a fine fellow, and flapping my wings in praise of my stupidity. -Not half I lent came back to me. Then business began to fall off, and -I saw that I was in the wrong groove. I had grown into bad ways; and -had I remained much longer in the old neighbourhood I should have been -left without a penny. I thought of our future, of the injustice I was -inflicting upon you. 'I will go,' said I, 'where I am not known, while -I still have a little to earn a living with, among strangers who, when -they borrow, will give me value in return, and where I shall not have -to say to poor friends, "Come to me no more; I am poorer than -yourselves." I have been foolish and weak; I will be wise and strong. -I will grow rich and hard-hearted.' Yes, my dear, that is what I -intend, and my heart will not be oppressed by the sight of suffering -it is out of my power to relieve. Rachel, I am not so clever as I -pretend to be; to speak the truth, I am afraid I am rather given to -crowing; and when it is not alone my own welfare, but the welfare of -one so dear to me as you are, that is concerned, I tremble, I begin to -doubt whether I have done right. Give me your opinion of the step I -have taken." - -She gazed at him with serious, loving, trustful eyes. "It is a wise -step, Aaron, I am sure it is. Whatever you do is right, and I am -satisfied." - -Ten o'clock struck, and a knock at the door announced the faithful -Prissy, come to put the fire out. She entered with the baby in her -arms, sound asleep. She was flushed and excited, and she held her hand -over the right side of her face. - -"Victoria ought to be a-bed," said Rachel, taking a peep at baby. - -"She can't go," retorted Prissy, "afore 'er mother's ready to take -'er." - -"Where is her mother?" asked Aaron. - -"At the Jolly Sailor Boy, enjying of 'erself." - -"Ah! And where is your aunt?" - -"At the Jolly Sailor Boy, too, 'aving a 'arf-quartern. There's been a -reg'lar row there about Mrs. Macrory's flannin peddicut." - -"What happened to it?" - -"It went wrong. Yes, it did. Yer needn't larf. Call me a story, do! I -would if I was you!" - -"No, no, Prissy," said Aaron, in a soothing tone. "How did the flannel -petticoat go wrong?" - -"Nobody knowed at fust. Aunty does Mrs. Macrory's washing, and a lot -more besides, and the things gits mixed sometimes. Aunty can't 'elp -that--'ow can she? So Mrs. Macrory's things was took 'ome without the -peddicut. Mrs. Macrory she meets aunty at the Jolly Sailor Boy, and -she begins to kick up about it. 'Where's my flannin peddicut?' she -ses. ''Ow should I know?' ses aunty. Then wot d'yer think? Mrs. -Macrory sees somethink sticking out of aunty's dress be'ind, and she -pulls at it. 'Why,' she ses, 'you've got it on!' That's wot the row -was about. Aunty didn't know 'ow it come on 'er--she's ready to take -'er oath on that. Ain't it rum?" - -"Very rum. Put out the fire, Prissy. It is time for all good people to -get to bed." - -In the performance of this duty Prissy was compelled to remove her -hand from her face, and when she rose from the floor it was seen that -her right eye was sadly discoloured, and that she was in pain. - -"Oh, Prissy, poor child!" exclaimed Rachel; "you have been hurt!" - -"Yes, mum," said Prissy. "Mrs. Macrory's gal--she's twice as big as -me; you should see 'er legs!--she ses, 'You're in that job,' she ses, -meaning the peddicut; and she lets fly and gives me a one-er on -account." - -Rachel ran upstairs, and brought down a bottle of gillard water, with -which she bathed the bruise, and tied one of her clean white -handkerchiefs over it. Prissy stood quite still, her lips quivering; -it may have been the gillard water that filled the girl's unbandaged -eye with tears. - -"That will make you feel easier," said Rachel. "Blow out the candles -now, and be here at half-past eight in the morning." - -"I'll be sure to be," said Prissy, with a shake in her voice. - -In the dark Aaron Cohen heard the sound of a kiss. - -"Good-night, sir," said the girl. - -"Good-night, Prissy," said Aaron. - -The chain of the street door was put up, and the shutters securely -fastened, and then Aaron and Rachel, hand in hand, went up the dark -stairs to their room. - -"My dear," said Aaron, drowsily, a few minutes after he and his wife -were in bed, "are you asleep?" - -"No, Aaron," murmured Rachel, who was on the border-land of dreams. - -"I've been thinking,"--he dozed off for a moment or two--"I've been -thinking----" - -"Yes, my dear?" - ---"That I wouldn't give Prissy's aunt any flannel petticoats to wash." - -Almost before the words had passed his lips sleep claimed him for its -own. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - A PROCLAMATION OF WAR. - - -On Monday morning Aaron commenced business. In the shop window was a -display of miscellaneous articles ticketed at low prices, and Aaron -took his place behind his counter, ready to dispose of them, ready to -argue and bargain, and to advance money on any other articles on which -a temporary loan was required. He did not expect a rush of customers, -being aware that pawnbroking was a tree of very small beginnings, a -seed which needed time before it put forth flourishing branches. The -security was sure, the profits accumulative. He was confident of the -result. Human necessity, even human frailty, was on his side; all he -had to do was to be fair in his dealings. - -In the course of the day he had a good many callers; some to make -inquiries, some to offer various articles for pledge. Of these latter -the majority were children, with whom he declined to negotiate. "Who -sent you?" "Mother." "Go home and tell her she must come herself." He -would only do business with grown-up people. Setting before himself a -straight and honest rule of life, he was not the man to wander from it -for the sake of a little profit. Of the other description of callers a -fair proportion entered the shop out of idle curiosity. He had -pleasant words for all, and gave change for sixpences and shillings -with as much courtesy as if each transaction was a gain to him; as, -indeed, it was, for no man or woman who entered with an unfavourable -opinion of him (influenced by certain rumours to his discredit which -had been circulated by Mr. Whimpole) departed without having their -minds disturbed by his urbanity and genial manners. "I don't see any -harm in him," was the general verdict from personal evidence; "he's as -nice a spoken man as I ever set eyes on." Many of his visitors went -away laughing at the humorous remarks he had made, which they passed -on from one to another. On the evening of this first day he expressed -his satisfaction at the business he had done. - -"Our venture will turn out well," he said to Rachel. "The flag of -fortune is waving over us." - -It was eight o'clock, and, although he scarcely expected further -custom, he kept the gas burning in the shop window. - -"Light is an attraction," he observed. "It is better than an -advertisement in the papers." - -The evening was fine. He and Rachel were sitting in the parlour, -with the intermediate door open. Aaron was smoking a handsome -silver-mounted pipe and making up his accounts, while his wife was -busy with her needle. Satan could never have put anything in the shape -of mischief in the way of these two pairs of industrious hands, for -they were never idle, except during the Sabbath and the fasts and -holydays, and then it was not idleness, but rest, Divinely ordained. -The silver-mounted pipe was one of Aaron's most precious possessions, -it being his beloved wife's gift to him on his last birthday. He would -not have sold it for ten times its weight in gold. Rachel often held a -light to it after it was filled, and Aaron, with an affectionate -smile, would kiss her white hand in acknowledgment of the service. -There are trifling memorials which are almost human in their -influence, and in the tender thoughts they inspire. At peace with the -world and with themselves, Aaron and his wife conversed happily as -they worked; but malignant influences were at work, of which they were -soon to feel the shock. - -Aaron had put his account books in the safe, and was turning the key, -when the sound of loud voices outside his shop reached their ears. The -voices were those of children, male and female, who were exercising -their lungs in bass, treble, and falsetto. Only one word did they -utter. - -"Jew! Jew! Jew!" - -Rachel started up in alarm, her hand at her heart. Her face was white, -her limbs were trembling. - -"Jew! Jew! Jew!" - -Aaron put the key of the safe in his pocket, and laid down his pipe. -His countenance was not troubled, but his brows were puckered. - -"Jew! Jew! Jew!" - -"It is wicked! it is wicked!" cried Rachel, wringing her hands. "Oh, -how can they be so cruel!" - -Aaron's countenance instantly cleared. He had to think, to act, for -her as well as for himself. With fond endearments he endeavoured to -soothe her; but her agitation was profound, and while these cries of -implied opprobrium continued she could not school herself to calmness. -Not for herself did she fear; it was against her dear, her honoured -husband that this wicked demonstration was made, and she dreaded that -he would be subjected to violence. Stories of past oppressions, -accounts she had read in the newspapers of Jew-baiting in other -countries, flashed into her mind. To her perturbed senses the voices -seemed to proceed from men and women; to Aaron's clearer senses they -were the voices of children, and he divined the source of the insult. -Rachel sobbed upon his breast, and clasped him close to protect him. - -"Rachel, my love, my life!" he said, in a tone of tender firmness. "Be -calm, I entreat you. There is nothing to fear. Have you lost -confidence in your husband? Would you increase my troubles, and make -the task before me more difficult than it is? On my word as a man, on -my faith as a Jew, I will make friends of these foolish children, in -whose outcries there is no deep-seated venom--I declare it, none. They -do not know what they are doing. From my heart I pity them, the young -rascals, and I will wage a peaceful war with them--yes, my life, a -peaceful war--which will confound them and fill them with wonder. I -will make them respect me; I will enrich them with a memory which, -when they are men and women, will make them think of the past with -shame. I will make all my enemies respect me. If you will help me by -your silence and patience, I will turn their bitterness into -thistledown, which I can blow away with a breath. Take heart, my -beloved, dear life of my life! Trust to me, and in the course of a few -days you shall see a wonder. There, let me kiss your tears away. That -is my own Rachel, whose little finger is more precious to me than all -the world beside. Good, good, my own dear wife! Do you think it is a -tragedy that is being enacted by those youngsters? No, no; it is a -comedy. You shall see, you shall see!" - -She was comforted by his words; she drew strength from his strength; -she looked at him in wonder, as he began to laugh even while he was -caressing her, and her wonder increased when she saw that his eyes -fairly shone with humour. - -"Have no fear, my heart," he said; "have not the slightest fear. I am -going to meet them--not with javelin and spear, but with something -still more powerful, and with good temper for my shield." - -"Aaron," she whispered, "are you sure there is no danger?" - -"If I were not sure," he answered, merrily, "I would remain snug in -this room. I am not a man of war; I am a man of peace, and with -peaceful weapons will I scatter the enemy. For your dear sake I would -not expose myself to peril, for do I not know that if I were hurt your -pain would be greater than mine? It is my joy to know it. You will -remain quietly here?" - -"I will, my dear husband. But you will not go into the street?" - -"I shall go no farther than the street door. I shall not need to go -farther." - -He stopped to fill his pipe, and to light it; and then, with loving -kisses and a smile on his lips, he left her. - -When he made his appearance at the shop door there was a sudden hush, -and a sudden scuttling away of the twenty or thirty children who had -congregated to revile him. He remained stationary at the door, smoking -his pipe, and gazing benignantly at them. - -Their fears of chastisement dispelled by his peaceful attitude, they -stopped, looked over their shoulders, and slowly and warily came back, -keeping, however, at a safe distance from him. They found their voices -again; again the reviling cries went forth. - -"Jew! Jew! Jew!" - -"Good children! good children!" said Aaron, in a clear, mellifluous -voice. Then he put his pipe to his mouth again, and continued to -smoke, smiling and nodding his head as if in approval. - -"Jew! Jew! Jew!" - -"Good little boys and girls," said Aaron. "Bravo! bravo! You deserve a -reward. Every labourer is worthy of his hire." - -He drew from his pocket three or four pennies, which, with smiling -nods of his head, he threw among them. - -Instantly came into play other passions--greed, avarice, the -determination not to be defrauded of their due. Falling upon the -money, they scrambled and fought for it. Aaron threw among them two or -three more pennies, and their ardour increased. They scratched, they -kicked, they tumbled over each other; blows were given and returned. -Those who had secured pennies scampered away with them, and, with loud -and vengeful cries, the penniless scampered after them. In a very -little while they had all disappeared. To the victors the spoils, it -is said; but in this instance it really appeared as if victory had -ranged itself on Aaron's side. - -Shaking with internal laughter, he remained on his steps awhile, -puffing at his pipe; then he put up the shutters, locked the street -door, put out the shop lights, and rejoined his wife. - -"My dear," he said, and his voice was so gay that her heart beat with -joy, "that is the end of the first act. They will not come back -to-night." - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - THE BATTLE IS FOUGHT AND WON. - - -"The personal affections by which we are governed," said Aaron Cohen, -seating himself comfortably in his chair, "are, like all orders of -beings to which they come, of various degrees and qualities, and the -smaller become merged and lost in the larger, as the serpents of -Pharaoh's magicians were swallowed up by Aaron's rod. Wisdom is better -than an inheritance, and anger resteth in the bosom of fools. -Moreover, as is observed by Rabbi Chanina, 'Wise men promote peace in -the world.' Such, my dear Rachel, is my aim, and so long as the means -within my reach are harmless, so long will I follow the learned -rabbi's precept. If the human heart were not full of envy and deceit, -what I have done should bring joy to our persecutors; but I will not -pledge myself that it has done so in this instance. On the contrary, -on the contrary. They have something else to think of than calling me -what I am proud to be called--a Jew. How they scratched and fought and -ran!" Aaron paused here to laugh. "The opprobrious cries ceased -suddenly, did they not, Rachel?" - -"They did, and I was very much surprised." - -"You will be more surprised when you hear that I rewarded with modern -shekels the labours of the young rascals who would make our lives a -torment to us." - -"You gave them money!" exclaimed Rachel, in amazement. "Is it possible -you rewarded them for their bad work?" - -"I threw among them seven penny pieces. Yes, yes, I rewarded them. Why -not?" - -"But why?" - -"Ah, why, why? Had I thrown among them seven cannon balls they would -scarcely have been more effective. The truth of this will be made -manifest to our benefit before many days are gone, or Cohen is not my -name. Wife of my soul, I went forth, not with a lion's, but with a -fox's skin. Have I not studied the law? Are not the Cohanim priests, -and are not priests supposed to be men of intelligence and resource? -We read in Proverbs, 'Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom; I have -understanding, I have strength.' Rabbi Meyer says that the study of -the law endows a man with sovereignty, dominion, and ratiocination. He -is slow to anger, ready to forgive an injury, has a good heart, -receives chastisement with resignation, loves virtue, correction, and -admonition. This, perhaps, is going a little too far, and is endowing -a human being with qualities too transcendent; but it is true to a -certain extent, and I have profited by the learned rabbi's words. Ill -fitted should I be to engage in the battle of life if I were not able -to cope with the young rascals who made the night hideous outside our -door, and who, if I am not mistaken; will repeat their performance -to-morrow evening at the same hour." - -"They will come again!" cried Rachel, clasping her hands in despair. - -"They will come again, and again, and yet again, and then--well, then -we shall see what we shall see." - -"You gave them money to-night," said Rachel, sadly, "and they will -return for more." - -"And they will return for more," said Aaron, with complacency. "At -the present moment I should judge that they are engaged in a fierce -contest. When that look comes into your face, my dear, it is an -indication that I have said something you do not exactly understand. -I threw to them seven apples of discord, which the nimblest and the -strongest seized and fled with. But each soldier conceived he -had a right to at least one of the apples, and those who were left -empty-handed laboured under a sense of wrong. They had been robbed by -their comrades. After them they rushed to obtain their portion of the -spoils of war. Then ensued a grand scrimmage in which noses have been -injured and eyes discoloured. Even as we converse the battle is -continued. I am not there, but I see the scene clearly with my mind's -eye." He took a sovereign from his pocket, and regarded it -contemplatively. "Ah, thou root of much evil and of much good, what -have you not to answer for? What blessings is it not in your power to -bestow, what evil passions do you not bring into play? Rachel, my -love, take heart of courage, and when you hear those boys shouting -outside tomorrow night do not be alarmed. Trust in me; everything will -come right in the end." - -The scene which Aaron had drawn from his imagination was as near as -possible to the truth. There had been a battle royal between the boys -and girls for possession of the pennies; noses were put out of joint, -black eyes were given, words of injurious import exchanged, and much -bad blood engendered. The sevenpence for which they fought would have -gone but a little way to pay for the repairs to the clothes which were -torn and rent during the fray. The end of it was that the robbers, -after being kicked and cuffed ignominiously, were not allowed to join -in a compact made by the penniless, to the effect that they would -assemble outside Aaron Cohen's shop to-morrow night and repeat the -tactics which had been so well rewarded, and that all moneys received -should be equally divided between the warriors engaged. One Ted Kite -was appointed commander, to organise the expedition and to see fair -play. - -Accordingly, on Tuesday night a score or so of boys and girls -presented themselves in front of the shop, and commenced shouting, -"Jew! Jew! Jew!" the fugleman being Ted Kite, who proved himself well -fitted for the task. - -"There he is, there he is!" said the youngsters eagerly, as Aaron made -his appearance on the doorstep; and, inspired by their captain, they -continued to fire. - -"Good children, good children," said Aaron, with good-humoured smiles, -and continuing to smoke his silver-mounted pipe. "Very well done, very -well done indeed!" - -"Ain't he going to throw us nothink?" they asked each other anxiously, -their greedy eyes watching Aaron's movements. They were kept rather -long in suspense, but at length Aaron's hand sought his pocket, and -half a dozen pennies rattled on the stones. Despite their compact down -they pounced, and fought and scratched for them as on the previous -night, the fortunate ones scudding away as on the first occasion, -followed by their angry comrades. They were caught, and compelled to -disgorge; the pennies were changed into farthings, and each soldier -received one for his pay; the two or three that were left were spent -in sweetstuff. - -"What a game!" the children exclaimed, and appointed to meet on the -following night to continue the pastime. - -On this third night they were kept waiting still longer. Aaron Cohen -did not make his appearance so quickly, and several minutes elapsed -before the pennies were thrown to them. On the first night he had -disbursed seven, on the second night six, on this third only four. -There was the usual fighting for them, and the usual scampering away; -but when the sum-total was placed in the hands of Ted Kite a great -deal of dissatisfaction was expressed. Only fourpence! They doubted -the correctness of the sum; they were sure that more had been thrown; -one girl said she counted eight, and others supported her statement. -Who had stolen the missing pennies? They quarrelled and fought again; -they regarded each other with suspicion; doubts were thrown upon the -honesty of the captain. Off went his coat instantly; off went the -coats of other boys; the girls, having no coats to throw off, tucked -up their sleeves; and presently six or seven couples were hitting, -scratching, and kicking each other. Much personal damage was done, and -more bad blood engendered. The warfare was not by any means of a -heroic nature. - -Nevertheless they assembled on the fourth night, and were kept waiting -still longer before they were paid. Aaron did not show his liberality, -however, until he had had a conference with the captain. His keen eyes -had singled out Ted Kite, and he beckoned to him. Ted hesitated; he -was only a small boy; Aaron Cohen was a big man, and in a personal -contest could have disposed of him comfortably. - -"Yah, yer coward!" cried the rank and file to their captain. "What are -yer frightened at? What did we make yer captain for?" - -Thus taunted, Ted Kite ventured to approach the smiling foe. - -"Come a little nearer," said Aaron; "I am not going to hurt you. I -wish you to do me a favour." - -Ted, with a sidelong look over his shoulders at his army, as if -appealing to it to rush to his rescue in case he was seized, shuffled -forward. Aaron Cohen held out his hand; Ted Kite timidly responded, -and was surprised at the friendly grip he received. - -"You are the leader," said Aaron, in his most genial voice. - -"Yes, Mr. Cohen," replied Ted, growing bold, "I'm the captain." - -"Clever lad, clever captain! Here's a penny for you. Don't let them -see you take it. It is for you alone. They will do as you tell them, -of course." - -"I'll let 'em know it if they don't." - -"It's right you should. I think it is very kind of you to come here as -you do, but I want you to oblige me and not come to-morrow night It is -Friday, and the shop will be closed; so you would be wasting your -time. That would be foolish, would it not?" - -"Yes, it would," said Ted, somewhat bewildered. "Shall we come on -Saturday night?" - -"Certainly, if you think proper. Then you will not be here to-morrow?" - -"We won't, as you'd rather not, Mr. Cohen." - -"Thank you, I am really obliged to you. Now go and join your army." - -Ted Kite turned away, walked a step or two, and returned. - -"But I say, Mr. Cohen----" - -"Well, my lad?" - -"Do you like it?" - -"Do I like it?" echoed Aaron, With a sly chuckle. "Should I speak to -you as I am doing if I didn't? I think it is very nice of you; very -nice, very nice indeed!" - -"Oh!" said Ted, in a crest-fallen tone. As Aaron took pleasure in the -persecution, it was not half such good fun as it had been. "He says he -likes it," he said to his comrades, when he was among them. - -"How much did he give yer?" they inquired, feeling as he did in -respect of the fun of their proceedings. - -"He didn't give me nothink." - -"We sor him hold out his hand to yer," they protested. - -"You sor us shake hands, that's what yer saw. Let's get on with the -game; we don't want to be kept waiting here all night." - -They went on with the game, calling "Jew! Jew! Jew!" half-heartedly. -Putting the pecuniary reward out of the question, it was a game that -was becoming rather monotonous. They had to call for quite a quarter -of an hour before Aaron paid them; and this time he paid them with two -pennies only. The children fell on the ground, and scraped the stones -for more, but found none; and they retired grumbling, discontented, -and suspicious of each other's honesty. - -On Friday night, the Sabbath eve, Aaron and Rachel had peace; and on -Saturday night the children made their appearance again and gave forth -their chorus. Aaron came to the door, and stood there, smoking his -pipe, and smiling at them; but he did not throw any pennies to them. -They did not know what to make of it. Their voices grew weaker and -weaker, they wandered about discontentedly, they declared it was not -fair on Mr. Cohen's part. "We'll try him agin on Monday night," they -said. - -They tried him again on Monday night, and he stood on his steps, -commending them, but he gave them no more pennies. There was no heart -whatever now in their invectives. They were not philosophers, and did, -not know that the course Aaron had pursued had taken the sting out of -their tails. "He likes it," they said to one another, as they strolled -off moodily, "and he wants us to come here and scream our throats dry -without being paid for it. Well, we ain't going to do it. We won't -call him Jew any more, if he wants us ever so much. It ain't likely, -now, is it? What does he mean by treating us so shabby?" These young -rapscallions thought the world was out of joint. - -On this Monday night an incident occurred which never came to Aaron's -ears. Prissy, hearing of the annoyance to which the Cohens were -subjected, made her appearance as the boys were wandering -disconsolately away, and without wasting time in asking questions, -darted like a tiger-cat upon the biggest of them, and fixed her -fingers in his hair. She had left Victoria Regina asleep on the coals -in her aunt's shop, and had, so to speak, girded up her loins for the -contest, by pinning up her ragged skirts and tucking up her sleeves to -the shoulder. "What's that for?" cried the boy, struggling to get -free. Prissy vouchsafed no explanation; the only words she uttered -were addressed to the other boys. "Fair play. One at a time. I'm only -a gal." Chivalry was not dead. They stood round the combatants, and -witnessed the fight without interfering. It was a desperate encounter. -Many an ugly blow did Prissy receive; but she depended upon her -talons, and pulled such quantities of hair out of the big boy's head, -and scratched his face so dreadfully, that he was at length driven to -tears and entreaties to her to leave off. "Do yer want any more?" -screamed Prissy, whose breath was almost gone. The big boy's answer -was to run away, whimpering, and the other boys hooted him as he fled. -"Would any other boy like to come on?" demanded the panting Prissy. -Not one accepted the challenge, and Prissy, glaring at them as they -followed their vanquished comrade, went back to Victoria Regina, and -shed copious tears of indignant satisfaction over the sleeping babe. - -In this way it was that Aaron Cohen fought the battle and gained a -bloodless victory. He laughed in his sleeve as he thought of it, and -laughed aloud in his cosy little parlour when he related the whole -affair to Rachel. - -"One shilling and eightpence has it cost me, my love," he said, "and I -do not grudge the money. Show 'me the battle that has been won for -less." - -Rachel was greatly relieved; but her dominant feeling was admiration -for her husband's wisdom. - -"I do not believe any other man in the world would have thought of -it," she said; and though Aaron shook his head in modest deprecation, -he was justified in inwardly congratulating himself upon his astute -tactics. - -The story got about, and the townspeople were much amused by it. "Mr. -Cohen's a clever fellow," they said. He grew to be respected by them, -and as the weeks passed by and it was seen that he was not only a -fair-dealing but a kindly-hearted man, the innuendoes which Mr. -Whimpole continued to circulate about him produced a very small -effect. Mr. Whimpole was not pleased; where is the man who would have -been in his position? Talking one night with Rachel over the animosity -the corn-chandler bore towards the Jews, Aaron said,-- - -"I have no doubt, my dear, that he is quite conscientious, and that he -considers his prejudices to be the outcome of a just conviction. -Doubtless his parents had the same conviction, and he imbibed it from -them. There are thousands of people who agree with him, and there are -worse persecutions than that to which we have been subjected. Look at -that infamously-governed country, Russia, which, in the maps, ought to -be stamped blood-red, with a heavy mourning border around it! The -wretches who inflict incredible sufferings upon countless innocent -beings call themselves Christians. They are not Christians, they are -fiends, and a judgment will fall upon them. Spain, once the greatest -of nations, fell into decay when the Jews deserted it. So will it be -with other nations that oppress the Jew. Let Germany look to it. It is -easy to arouse the evil passions of human beings, but a brand of fire -shall fall upon the heads of those who are employed in work so vile." - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - JOY AND SORROW. - - -Perhaps, however, to Rachel may chiefly be ascribed the general esteem -in which the Cohens were held by the townsfolk. Charitable, kind, and -gentle by nature, she was instinctively drawn to all poor people who -had fallen into misfortune. Here there was no question of Jew and -Christian. A human being was in trouble; that was sufficient for this -dear woman, whose heart bled at the sight of suffering. Upon her -sympathetic ears no tale of distress could fall without bearing fruit. -Now it was a basin of nourishing soup, now a mould of jelly, now part -of a chicken, cooked by herself, and paid for out of her housekeeping -money. She won friends everywhere, and her sweet face was like a ray -of sunshine in the homes of the poor. It was not at all uncommon to -hear that her timely assistance had been the means of restoring to -health those who had been stricken down. She walked through life as an -angel of mercy might have done, and spiritual flowers grew about her -feet. - -Of all the friends who sounded her praises none were more enthusiastic -than little Prissy, who came now regularly to the house to do domestic -work. - -Anxious to increase his trade, Aaron had stocked his shop with such -articles of wear and adornment which were most in request. He had not -the means to pay ready money for the stock, but through a friend in -Portsmouth, Mr. Moss, with whom the readers of this story have already -become acquainted, he obtained credit from wholesale dealers who would -have been chary to trust him without a sufficient recommendation. -Apart from the pleasures which his modest success in business afforded -him, there was a happiness in store for him to which he looked forward -with a sense of profound gratitude. Rachel was about to become a -mother. To this fond couple, who lived only for each other, there -could be no greater joy than this. They had lost their firstborn, and -God was sending another child to bless their days. They never closed -their eyes at night, they never rose in the morning, without offering -a prayer of thanks to the Most High for His goodness to them. They saw -no cloud gathering to darken their happiness. - -It was an ordinary event, for which Aaron could hardly have been -prepared. - -They had been eleven months in Gosport when one morning Aaron, rising -first and going down to his shop, found that burglars had been at -work. They had effected an entrance at the back of the house, and had -carried away the most valuable articles in the window. The loss, Aaron -calculated, would not be less than a hundred pounds. - -It was, to him, a serious loss; he had commenced with a very small -capital, and his earnings during the year had left only a small margin -over his household and trade expenses. His business was growing, it is -true, but for the first six months he had barely paid his way; it was -to the future he looked to firmly establish himself, and now in one -night all his profits were swept away. More than this; if he were -called upon to pay his debts he would have but a few pounds left. -Rachel, whose health the last week or two had been delicate, her -confinement being so near, was in bed by his directions; he had -forbidden her to rise till ten o'clock. It was a matter to be thankful -for; he could keep the shock of the loss from her; in her condition -bad news might have a serious effect upon her. - -He set everything in order, spoke no word of what had occurred to his -wife, re-arranged the shop window, and took down the shutters. In the -course of the day he told Rachel that he intended to close a couple of -hours earlier than usual; he had to go to Portsmouth upon business in -the evening, and should be absent probably till near midnight. - -"You will not mind being alone, my love?" he said. - -"Oh no," she answered, with a tender smile; "I have plenty to occupy -me." - -She had been for some time busy with her needle preparing for her -unborn child. - -"But you must go to bed at ten," said Aaron. "I shall lock the shop, -and take the key of the back door with me, so that I can let myself -in." - -She promised to do as he bade her, and in the evening he left her to -transact his business. He had no fear that she would be intruded upon; -it was not likely that the house would be broken into two nights in -succession; besides, with the exception of some pledges of small value -which he kept in the safe, where they were secure from burglars, there -was little now to tempt thieves to repeat their knavish doings. So -with fond kisses he bade her goodnight. - -They stood facing each other, looking into each other's eyes. Rachel's -eyes were of a tender grey, with a light so sweet in them that he -never looked into them unmoved. He kissed them now with a strange -yearning at his heart. - -"I hope baby's eyes will be like yours, dear love," he said; "the soul -of sweetness and goodness shines in them." - -She smiled happily, and pressed him fondly to her. Ah, if he had -known! - -His first business was with the police. He went to the station, and -telling the inspector of his loss, said that he wished it to be kept -private, because of his fear that it might reach his wife's ears. The -inspector replied that it would be advisable under any circumstances. -Leaving in the officer's hands a list of the articles that had been -stolen, he proceeded to Portsmouth to consult his friend Mr. Moss. -That good-hearted gentleman was deeply concerned at the news. - -"It is a serious thing, Cohen," he said. - -"A very serious thing," replied Aaron, gravely; "but I shall overcome -it, Only I require time. I promised to pay some bills to-morrow, and -as I shall need a little stock to replace what I have lost, it will -cramp me to do so now." - -He mentioned the names of the tradesmen to whom he had given the -promise, and asked Mr. Moss to call upon them in the morning and -explain the matter to them. - -"They will not lose their money," he said; "it will not take me very -long to make everything right." - -"I will see them," said Mr. Moss, "and I am sure they will give you -time. Aaron Cohen's name is a sufficient guarantee." - -"I hope it will always be," replied Aaron. "It is very unfortunate -just now, because I have extra expenses coming on me. The nurse, the -doctor----" - -"I know, I know. How is Mrs. Cohen?" - -"Fairly well, I am glad to say. She knows nothing of what has -occurred." - -"Of course not. How could you tell her while she is like that? When -Mrs. Moss is in the same way I am always singing and laughing and -saying cheerful things to her. Between you and me, we expect an -addition ourselves in about four months." - -"Indeed! That will make----" - -"Twelve," said Mr. Moss, rubbing his hands briskly together. "Increase -and multiply. It's our bounden duty; eh, Cohen?" - -"Yes," said Aaron, rather absently. "And now I must go; it will be -late before I reach home, and for all Rachel's promises I expect she -will keep awake for me. Good-night, and thank you." - -"Nothing to thank me for. Good-night, and good luck." - -When Aaron returned to Gosport it was midnight. Winter was coming on, -and it was cold and dark. Buttoning his coat close up to his neck, he -hastened his steps. - -He was not despondent. Misfortune had fallen upon him, but he had -confidence in himself; and, despite the practical common sense which -showed itself in all his actions, there was in his nature an -underlying current of spiritual belief in Divine assistance towards -the successful accomplishment of just and worthy endeavour. That it is -man's duty to do right, to work, to pray, to be considerate to his -neighbours, to make his home cheerful, to be as charitable as his -means will allow--this was his creed; and it was strengthened by his -conviction that God made Himself manifest even upon earth in matters -of right and wrong. He did not relegate the expiation of transgression -to the future; he did not believe that a man could wipe out the sins -of the past year by fasting, and praying, and beating his breast on -the Day of Atonement. Wrong-doing was not to be set aside and -forgotten until a convenient hour for repentance arrived. That was the -conduct of a man who tried to cheat his conscience, who deluded -himself with the hope that the Eternal sometimes slept. Daily, hourly, -a man must keep watch over himself and his actions. This had been his -rule of life; and it contributed to his happiness, and to the -happiness of those around him. - -He was within a quarter of a mile of his residence when he was -conscious of an unseen disturbance in the air; and presently he saw a -distant glare in the sky, and the faint echoes of loud voices stole -upon his senses. Agitated as he had been by what had transpired during -this long unfortunate day, he could not at first be certain whether -these signs were real or imaginary; but he soon discovered that they -did not spring from his imagination. The glare in the sky became -plainly visible, the loud voices reached his cars. There was a fire in -the town, and he was proceeding towards it. Instantly his thoughts, -his fears, centred upon Rachel. He ran forward quickly, and found -himself struggling through an excited crowd. Flames shot upwards; the -air was filled with floating sparks of fire. Great God! It was his own -house that was being destroyed by the devouring element. He did not -heed that; the destruction of his worldly goods did not affect him. - -"My wife!" he screamed. "Where is my wife?" - -By main force they held him back, for he was rushing into the flames. - -"Let me go!" he screamed. "Where is my wife?" - -"It is all right, Mr. Cohen," a number of voices replied. "She is -saved!" - -"Thank God, oh, thank God!" he cried. "Take me to her. Where is she?" - -He cared not for the ruin that had overtaken him; like cool water to a -parched throat had come the joyful news. - -"Take me to her. In the name of Heaven, tell me where she is!" - -She was in a house, at a safe distance from the fire, and thither he -was led. Rachel was lying on a couch in her nightdress; sympathising -people were about her. - -"Rachel, Rachel!" he cried, and fell upon his knees by her side. - -She did not answer him; she was insensible. - -"Do not agitate yourself," said a voice. It was that of a physician -who had been attending to her. "Be thankful that she lives." - -"O Lord, I thank Thee!" murmured the stricken man. "My Rachel lives!" - -What mattered all the rest? What mattered worldly ruin and -destruction? The beloved of his heart was spared to him. - -"You are a sensible man, Mr. Cohen," said the physician, "and you must -be calm for her sake. In her condition there will be danger if she -witnesses your agitation when she recovers." - -"I will be calm, sir," said Aaron, humbly. "She is all I have in the -world." - -He made no inquiries as to the cause of the fire; he did not stir from -Rachel's side, but sat with his eyes fixed upon her pallid face. The -physician remained with them an hour, and then took his departure, -saying he would return early in the morning, and leaving instructions -to Aaron what to do. - -At sunrise Rachel awoke. Passing one hand over her eyes, she held out -the other in a groping, uncertain way. Aaron took it in his, and held -it fondly; the pallor left her cheeks. - -"It is you, my dear?" she murmured. - -"Yes, it is I, my life!" he said, in a low and gentle tone. - -"You are well--you are safe?" - -"I am well; I am safe," he replied. "And you, Rachel, how do you -feel?" - -"I have a slight headache. It will soon pass away. Oh, my dear -husband, how thankful I am! When did you return?" - -"Not till you were taken from the house. Do not talk now. Rest, rest, -my beloved!" - -The endearing words brought a glad smile to her lips. - -"I will sleep presently, Aaron. Is the doctor here?" - -"No, but he will come soon. Shall I go for him?" - -"I can wait, dear; when he comes I should like to speak to him alone." - -"You are hurt!" he said, alarmed. "Tell me!" - -"I am not hurt, dear; it is only that my head aches a little. He will -give me something to relieve me. Have no fear for me, Aaron; I am in -no danger; indeed, indeed, I am not!" - -"God be praised!" - -She drew his head to her breast, and they lay in silence awhile, -fondly embracing. - -"Let me tell you, dear, and then I will go to sleep again. I went to -bed at ten, as you bade me, and though I had it in my mind to keep -awake for you I could not do so. I do not know how long I slept, but I -awoke in confusion, and there was a strong glare in my eyes. I hardly -remember what followed. I heard voices calling to me--Prissy's voice -was the loudest, I think--and then I felt that strong arms were around -me, and I was being carried from the house. That is all, my dear, till -I heard your voice, here. Where am I?" - -He informed her; and then, holding him close to her, she fell asleep -again. As the clock struck nine the physician entered the room, and -Aaron told him what had passed. - -"I can spare half an hour," said the physician. "Go and see after your -affairs. I will not leave her till you return." - -Kissing Rachel tenderly, and smoothing the hair from her forehead, -Aaron left the house, and went to his own. Before he departed he -learned from the kind neighbours, who had given Rachel shelter, that -they were not in a position to keep her and Aaron with them, and he -said that he would make arrangements to remove her in the course of -the day, if the doctor thought it would be safe to do so. His own -house, he found, was completely destroyed, but he heard of another at -no great distance, which was to be let furnished for a few weeks; and -this he took at once, and installed Prissy therein, to light fires and -get the rooms warm. The arrangement completed, he hastened back to -Rachel, between whom and the physician a long consultation had taken -place during his absence. At the conclusion of their conversation she -had asked him one question,-- - -"Shall I be so all my life, doctor?" - -"I fear so," was his reply. - -"My poor husband!" she murmured. "My poor, dear husband! Say nothing -to him, doctor, I implore you. Let him hear the truth from my lips." - -He consented, not sorry to be spared a painful duty. "She is -surprisingly well," he said to Aaron, "and in a few days will be able -to get about a little, though you must not expect her to be quite -strong till her child is born." - -The news was so much better than Aaron expected, that he drew a deep -breath of exquisite relief. - -"Can she be removed to-day with safety?" he asked. - -"I think so. She will be happier with you alone. Give me your new -address; I will call and see her there this evening." - -At noon she was taken in a cab to her new abode and Aaron carried her -in, and laid her on the sofa before a bright fire. In the evening the -physician called according to his promise. "She is progressing -famously," he said to Aaron. "Get her to bed early, and it may be -advisable that she should keep there a few days. But I shall speak -more definitely about this later on. Mr. Cohen, you have my best -wishes. You are blessed with a noble wife." Tears shone in Aaron's -eyes. "Let me impress upon you," continued the doctor, "to be strong -as she is strong; but at present, with the birth of her child so near, -it is scarcely physical power that sustains her. She is supported by a -spiritual strength drawn from her love for you and her unborn babe." - -With these words the physician left them together. Prissy was gone, -and Aaron and Rachel were alone. - -They exchanged but few words. Rachel still occupied the couch before -the fire, and as she seemed to be dozing Aaron would not disturb her. -Thus an hour passed by, and then Rachel said,-- - -"The doctor advises me to go to bed early. Will you help me up, dear?" - -She stood on her feet before him, and as his eyes rested on her face a -strange fear entered his heart. - -"Come, my life!" he said. - -"A moment, dear husband," she said. "I have something to tell you, -something that will grieve you. I do not know how it happened, nor -does the good doctor know. He has heard of only one such case before. -I am not in pain; I do not suffer. It is much to be grateful for, and -I am humbly, humbly grateful. It might have been so much worse!" - -"Rachel, my beloved!" said Aaron, placing his hands on her shoulders. - -"Keep your arms about me, my honoured husband. Let me feel your dear -hands, your dear face. Kiss me, Aaron. May I tell you now?" - -"Tell me now, my beloved." - -"Look into my eyes, dear. I cannot look into yours. Dear husband, I am -blind!" - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - DIVINE CONSOLATION. - - -The shock of this revelation was so overwhelming that for a few -moments Aaron was unable to speak. In the words of the prophet, "His -tongue clave to the roof of his mouth." His soul was plunged in -darkness, and a feeling of passionate rebellion racked his heart. That -upon his sweet and innocent wife should have fallen an infliction so -awful seemed to blot all brightness out of the world. Nay, more--it -seemed to be so opposed to the principle of justice as to render it a -mockery and a snare. The sentiment which animated him was one of -horror and indignation, and he yielded to it unresistingly. What had -Rachel done to deserve the cruel blow? Her life had been a life of -purity and innocence; her religious obligations had been zealously -fulfilled; in her home her duties had been faithfully and cheerfully -performed; to the poor she had been a ministering angel; she had -walked truly in the ways of God. Not with a crown of sorrow, but with -a crown of glory should she have been crowned And was it not natural -that he should rebel against it? He was her champion, her protector, -her defender; she had no one else. Should he stand tamely by and show -no sense of the injustice which had been inflicted upon her? - -Very, very rarely had Aaron been dominated by so stubborn a mood; -very, very rarely had he allowed it to take possession of him; and -never in a single instance on his own account. Mere worldly -misfortune, however disastrous in its effect, he had invariably met -with philosophic calm and fortitude. Many reverses had attended him, -and he had borne them bravely, as a man should, as it was a man's duty -to do. With a courage which may be said to be heroic had he accepted -each successive stroke, and had immediately applied himself to the -task of repairing the breach. No fainthearted soldier he, sitting down -and weeping by the roadside when he received a wound. To be up and -doing, that was his creed. These were but ordinary checks, which a man -must be prepared to encounter in his course through life; weak indeed -would he prove himself to be who did not at once set to work manfully -and energetically to make the best, instead of the worst, of each -rebuff. Aaron's keen gift of humour and his talent for justifiable -device were of immense assistance to him in these encounters, and in -his conversations with Rachel he was in the habit of throwing so droll -a light upon the difficulties with which he was contending, that he -lifted from her heart and from his own a weight which otherwise would -have remained there and impeded his efforts. He treated every personal -ailment which visited him, and every little accident he met with, in -the same fashion, laughing away Rachel's distress, and bearing his -pain without the least symptom of querulousness. "You seem almost to -like pain, my dear," she had said. "There is pleasure in pain," he had -answered; "think of the relief." Thus did he make the pack upon his -shoulders easy to carry, and thus did he contribute to Rachel's -enjoyment of life. - -Over and above these lesser features in his character reigned the -great factors truth and justice. Temptations he had had, as all men -have, but he was, happily, so constituted that he had not to fight -them down; they were destroyed in their suggestion. It was with him an -impossibility to advance his own interests by deceit and subterfuge, -to make money by cheating his neighbour. He took no credit to himself -that he was never guilty of a meanness; it was simply that it was not -in his nature to fall so low, and that he walked instinctively in the -right path. He had a soul of pity for misfortune, and had frequently -conversed with Rachel upon the doctrine of responsibility, arguing -that children born of vicious parents should not be made accountable -for their evil acts to the fullest extent. "It is an inheritance," he -argued, "and it is not they who are wholly guilty. My parents gave me -an inheritance of cheerfulness and good temper, and I am more grateful -for it than I should be if they had left me a large bag of gold." Upon -questions of right and wrong his good sense and his rectitude led him -unerringly to the just side, and when he had a stake in a decision he -was called upon to make in such or such an issue he never for a moment -hesitated. To have benefited himself at the expense of justice would -have been in his eyes a sin which was not to be forgiven. A sin of -unconscious omission could be expiated, but a sin of deliberate -commission would have weighed for ever on his soul. Could such a man -as this, a devout and conscientious Jew, faithful every day of his -life in the observances of his religion, with a firm belief in the -mercy and goodness of the Eternal God, and with the principles of -truth and justice shining ever before him, be guilty of such a sin? It -will be presently seen. - -So far himself, considered as an entity. Had he been alone in life, -with no other life so welded into his own as to be inseparable from -it, it is scarcely possible that he could have been guilty of a -conscious wrong, for his soul would have risen in revolt against the -suggestion. Had he been alone, misfortunes might have fallen upon him -unceasingly, poverty might have been his lot through all his days, -disease might have racked his bones--he would have borne all with -tranquillity and resignation, and would have lifted up his voice in -praise of the Most High to his last hour. Of such stuff are martyrs -made; from such elements springs the lofty ideal into which, once in a -generation, is breathed the breath of life, the self-sacrificing hero -who sheds his blood and dies with a glad light on his face in the -battle of right against might, in the battle of weak innocence against -the ruthless hand of power. But Aaron was not alone; Rachel was by his -side, leaning upon his heart, looking to him for joy, for peace, for -happiness. And when he suffered, it was through her he suffered; and -when he was oppressed with sorrow, it was through her he sorrowed. So -keen was his sympathy with her, so intense was his love for her, that -if only her finger ached he was in pain. We are but human after all, -and no man can go beyond a man's strength. Legends are handed down to -us of Divine inspiration falling upon a man who, thus spiritually -directed and inspired, becomes a leader, a hero, a prophet; but in -that man's heartstrings are not entwined the tender fingers of wife -and children. He communes with nature, he hears voices in the forest, -the rustling leaves whisper to him, the solemn trees, rearing their -stately forms to the dark skies, bear a message to his soul, he sees -visions in the dead of night; but he hears not the voice of his -beloved, he beholds not the angelic face of his sleeping child in its -crib. As blades of grass, which we can rub into nothingness between -our fingers, force their upward way to air and sunshine through -adamantine stones, as rocks are worn away by the trickling of drops of -water, so may a man's sublimest qualities, so may a man's heart and -soul, be pierced and reft by human love. - -It was this absorbing sentiment that agitated Aaron when Rachel -revealed to him that she was blind, it was this that struck him dumb. - -Meekly and patiently she stood before him--he had fallen back a -step--and waited for him to speak. He did not utter a word. - -Presently her sweet voice stole upon his senses. - -"Aaron, my beloved, why are you silent? why do you not speak to me?" - -He lifted his head and groaned. - -"Ah, do not groan, dear husband," she continued. "It is for me you -suffer; but I am not suffering--did I not tell you so? It is, indeed, -the truth. Look into my face; you will see no pain there. All is well -with us; all will be well with us; the future is glad and bright. And -remember, dear, I need you more than ever now. Next to God, you are my -rock, my salvation. He has cast this affliction upon me out of His -goodness and wisdom. Humbly, gratefully, I thank Him. Let us lift up -our voices in His praise." - -And from her lips flowed, in the ancient tongue, the sublime prayer: - -"Hear, O Israel, the Eternal, our God, the Eternal is One. And thou -shalt love the Eternal thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy -soul, and with all thy might. And these words which I command thee -this day shall be in thine heart. And thou shalt teach them diligently -unto thy children, and shall speak of them when thou sittest in thine -house, and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and -when thou risest up." - -An angel's voice could not have been more melodious and sweet, and the -beauty of the prayer acquired truly a Divine strength through Rachel's -intoning of the pious words. But it was not only her voice that -resounded in the room. The moment she commenced to pray rebellion -against Fate's decree melted out of Aaron's heart, and pity took its -place. He was restored to his better self. Holding her hand, he joined -her in the prayer, but not in so loud a voice as usual; she was the -teacher now, and he the pupil; he followed her, as it were, and was -led by her; and when the prayer was ended her head sank upon his -breast, and her arms entwined themselves around his neck. - -"You are resigned, my dear?" she whispered. - -"I bow my head," he answered. "The Lord's will be done." - -"I could not keep it from you any longer. I was blind when I opened my -eyes in the house of the good people who gave me shelter; I was blind -when you sat by my side there; but I feared to tell you; I wished to -speak to the doctor first. It was so strange, so sudden, that I hoped -it would not last. I awoke with the cry of fire in my ears, and, as I -leapt from bed, the bright glare of the flames seemed to strike sight -out of my eyes. I fainted, and remember nothing more, only that when I -opened my eyes again I could not see. It was merciful that there was -no pain. Oh, my dear husband, I am so sorry for you; so sorry, so -sorry!" - -"Rachel, dear Rachel, dear life of my life, it is not for me you -should grieve--it is for yourself." - -"No, dear love, I do not grieve for myself. Should I not rather -rejoice? Because I know, I know,"--she put his hand to her lips and -kissed it, then held it to her heart--"that you will bear with me, -that I shall not be a trouble to you." - -"A trouble to me, Rachel! You are dearer to me than ever, more -precious to me than ever. Oh, my dear! I never loved you as I love you -now!" - -"How sweet, how sweet!" she murmured. "How beautiful is life! No woman -was ever blessed as I am blessed! And soon, dear love, we shall have -with us another evidence of the Lord's great mercy. Our child, our -darling, will be here! Ah, what happiness!" - -She hid her face upon his breast. - -Was there already in her heart the shadow of an abiding sorrow -springing from the knowledge that she would never see the face of her -unborn child, that she would never be able to look into the beautiful -eyes which in a short time would open upon the world? Aaron had hoped -that baby's eyes would be like hers, but she would never know from -personal evidence whether they were or not. If such a sorrow was -making itself felt she kept it to herself and guarded it jealously, -lest Aaron should participate in it. Her face was radiant as they -continued to converse, and by her loving words she succeeded in -thoroughly banishing from Aaron's soul the rebellious promptings by -which he had first been agitated. - -Thus did Rachel, to whom the light of the universe was henceforth as -night, become the divine consoler in the home. - -"I am tired, dear. Will you lead me to our room?" - -He took her in his arms and carried her up, as he would have carried a -child; and this new office of love, and indeed everything he did for -her, drew them spiritually closer to each other. - -When she was in bed she asked him to tell her about the fire, and if -he would be a great loser by it. He softened the loss, said that he -was well insured, that they had a good friend in Mr. Moss, and that it -would not be long before he was On his feet again. Content and -happiness were expressed on her face as she listened. - -"It will be a comfort to you to know," he said, "that no one will lose -anything by me; every demand will be met, every penny will be paid. In -my mansion"--his study of the law and his devotion to his faith led -him occasionally into a biblical phrase--"are three stars. First, the -Eternal God; next, you, my beloved; next, our good name." - -"That is safe in your keeping, dear," she said. - -"And will ever be, so far as human endeavour can aid me. You will be -glad to hear, too, that the townspeople sympathise with us in our -trouble." - -"I am very glad: it was proved by the kindness that was shown to me -when I was taken out of the fire. Who that lives to know you does not -learn to honour you?" - -She held his hand in a tender clasp, and kissed it repeatedly. - -"I will tell you something. I am beginning already to acquire a new -sense. When you look at me I feel it. You are looking at me now. When -your eyes are not on my face I know it. I shall learn a good deal very -soon, very soon! I do not intend to be a burden to you." - -This was said with tender gaiety. - -"You can never be that." He touched her eyes. "Henceforth I am your -eyes. It is a poor return; for you, Rachel, are my very life." - -"Dear husband! Dear love! Kiss me. I want to fall asleep with those -words in my ears. You will not stop up long?" - -"I will go down and put out the lights and see that all is safe. Then -I will come up at once. Sleep, my life, sleep!" - -He passed his fingers caressingly across her forehead, and she fell -asleep with a smile on her lips. - -He stole softly from the room, and went down and made the house safe; -then he returned to the bedroom. - -The smile had left Rachel's lips; her face was paler, and there was a -worn look on it. A terrible fear entered his heart. - -"O God! if she should die! O God! if I should lose her!" - -He took his silk taleth from its bag, and wrapping it around him, put -on his hat, and stood and prayed, with his face to the east:-- - -"How precious is Thy mercy, O God! The children of men take refuge -under the shadow of Thy wing. They are satisfied with the richness of -Thy house, and Thou causest them to drink of the stream of Thy -delight. For with Thee is the fountain of life; by Thy light only do -we see light. O continue Thy mercy unto them who know Thee, and Thy -righteousness to the upright of heart!" - -One line in the prayer he repeated again and again-- - -"For with Thee is the fountain of life; by Thy light only do we see -light." - -And so he prayed till midnight, and the one supplication into which -all else was merged was sent forth with touching pathos from his very -heart of hearts-- - -"O Lord of the universe, Giver of all good, humbly I beseech Thee to -spare my beloved! Take her not from me! Let her live, let her live, to -bless my days! Let not darkness overwhelm me. It is Thy hand that -directs the fountain of life." - -His prayers ended, he sat by the bedside watching his wife's face, and -listening to her breathing. - -And Rachel slept on, and dreamt of the child whose face she was never -to see on earth. - - - - - - BOOK THE THIRD. - - _THE TEMPTATION AND THE FALL_. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - UNTO THEM A CHILD IS BORN. - - -Three weeks of great anxiety followed. Despite the courage with which -Rachel had borne the sudden visitation of blindness, her physical -strength did not hold out, and, by the doctor's orders, she kept her -bed. - -During these weeks Aaron had enough to do to put his affairs in order, -and he had the additional trouble that matters turned out worse than -he had anticipated. For security's sake, and to set the borrowers at -ease, he transferred all the pledges that had been saved to another -pawnbroker; those which were destroyed he considered himself bound in -honour and common honesty to make good. He made no demur to the claims -that were brought against him, but settled them promptly, and settled, -also, all his trade debts. What with all this harassing business and -his domestic sorrows, he was occupied day and night; but he was -careful that Rachel should not suspect how bad things were with him. - -The doctor came daily, and Rachel's time was very near. At every visit -Aaron watched his face for hopeful news of Rachel's condition; but the -doctor volunteered no information, and only gave instructions to do -this or that. This reticence was torture to Aaron, and one day he -begged the doctor to conceal nothing from him. - -"There is nothing to conceal," said the doctor. "Her state is -critical; but what else could be expected? Consider what she has -passed through." - -"I think of nothing else, of nothing else!" said Aaron, his fingers -working convulsively, for a question was trembling on his lips which -he felt he must ask, but to which he could scarcely give utterance. - -At length he found courage. - -"Doctor, will she live?" - -The doctor bit his lip as he gazed upon Aaron's misery. - -"Whatever lies in my power shall be done, but human skill and science -have their limitations. We are all in God's hands." - -And with these words, and a look of compassion, he departed. - -Aaron stood motionless awhile. We are all in God's hands! How often -has that been said, and how terrible is its import! Human science and -skill have done all it is in their power to do, the rest is with God. -Aaron reasoned the true meaning away. - -"Yes, we are all in God's hands," he murmured; "old and young, rich -and poor, the strong and the feeble alike. It is so with one and all. -I thank God he did not tell me to prepare for the worst!" - -He drew comfort, not from what was said, but from what was not said. -He continued to commune with himself. - -"How can she be otherwise than weak? And doctors sometimes think it -their duty not to look on the brightest side. My Rachel will be spared -to me. God will not take her away." - -He went up to her. A nurse he had engaged was in the room; she could -come for only a week, her services at the end of that time being -required elsewhere. - -She put her fingers to her lips as he entered. - -"Is she asleep?" he asked, in a whisper. - -She nodded in reply; but when he approached the bed, Rachel held out -her hand to him. - -"Nurse thought you were asleep, dear," he said, bending down to her. - -"I may have been," she answered. "I fall off into a doze a dozen times -an hour, it seems, but I always know when you are near me." - -She put her hand to her head. - -"Are you in pain, my life?" - -"Oh no. I am rather weak, but I shall get strong soon. Whenever I doze -I see our dear one, the blessing God is sending us. Aaron, dear love, -do not be anxious for me. I shall hold our darling in my arms." - -The nurse gave him a warning look not to encourage her to talk, and, -understanding the silent monition, he kissed Rachel tenderly, and went -down to muse and pray. - -The settlement of all his debts had left him almost a beggar. He owed -not a shilling, except to the doctor, who had said nothing about his -account; the week's money for the nurse was carefully put away: he -could not have afforded to engage her for a longer term, for all the -money he had left in the world amounted to barely two pounds. What was -he to do when that was spent? Commence business again upon borrowed -capital? That seemed to be the only course open to him. But who would -lend it to him? It was no small sum that would be required, and all -his friends, with the exception of Mr. Moss, were poor. Mr. Moss was -comparatively a new friend, and he could not expect him to render such -substantial assistance without security. And what security could he -offer but his own bare word? There were money-lenders; the newspapers -teemed with their advertisements. It would be folly to apply to any -one of them for so large a loan as fifty pounds, which sum, he -calculated, was the least he could begin business again with; he would -be sure to be met with a refusal. But what was he to do? - -He thrust these worldly contemplations aside, and indeed it was -impossible for him to dwell upon them with a heavier sorrow at his -door, and with a dread crisis so very near. He trusted in God--yes; -but he knew that a man must work for his livelihood. Well, he would -work; he was willing and ready for any honest occupation; but he must -wait--for what? He became confused. The pressing worldly necessity, -with its exacting and imperative demands, and the overwhelming human -sorrow were contending for supremacy. He stepped into the passage, and -softly ascending the stairs, listened at Rachel's door. As he stood -there the nurse came out. - -"Go for the doctor," she whispered. - -He flew. There was no conflict now in his mind between the two -extremities; his worldly trouble was forgotten; he thought only of his -beloved wife and their unborn child. The doctor was not in, but was -expected in a quarter of an hour, and would be sure to come round at -once. Leaving an urgent entreaty not to delay a moment, Aaron hastened -back to his house, and on the road found himself intercepted by -Prissy, who had grown taller but no stouter since the night upon which -she introduced herself to him. By reason of her increased height she -looked thinner and scraggier than ever; as usual, Victoria Regina, who -had grown plumper and rounder, was in the girl's arms. - -"Mr. Cohen, Mr. Cohen!" cried Prissy. - -"I can't stop now," he replied, passing her quickly. - -But Prissy's long legs were as active as his, and though Victoria -Regina was a heavy weight to carry, she kept pace with him. - -"D'yer know wot some people's saying about yer, Mr. Cohen?" - -"Never mind, never mind, my good girl; I have no time to listen." - -"They're saying, everybody is," persisted Prissy, "that yer as good as -ruined, and that yer 'aven't got a shilling left to pay yer way with." - -"What does it matter what some people say, Prissy? There are good and -bad, just and unjust. Never listen to tittle-tattle." - -"'Ow's it to be 'elped, Mr. Cohen, when it's dinged in yer ears? Mr. -Whimpole, he ses he sor wot was coming all along, and when I ups and -gives 'im a bit o' my mind he slaps my face he does, and pushes me -into the gutter. I don't mind that, but no one's going to speak agin -yer when I'm by. It ain't likely after all yer've done for me." - -"You are a good girl, but take no notice of what Mr. Whimpole says. -There are many here who still have a good word for me." - -"Plenty, sir, and that's wot makes Mr. Whimpole mad; he can't make -everybody think as he wants 'em to. There's plenty as speaks up for -yer. You look ill, Mr. Cohen. I 'ope missis is no wus, I do." - -"She is still weak and ill, Prissy; but she will get well soon--eh, -Prissy?--she will get well soon?" - -He cast a swift anxious look upon her; even from the lips of this poor -girl he sought the comfort of a consoling word. - -"Yes, sir, she's sure to. Don't you worry yerself, Mr. Cohen. Gawd -won't let nothink wrong 'appen to 'er. He knows what He's up to, Gawd -does. Wot did Mrs. Cohen say 'erself to me more nor once? 'Be a good -gal,' she ses, 'and tell the truth, and be as kind as yer can to -everybody, and Gawd'll look after yer.' And ain't she good, sir, and -does she ever say anythink but the truth, and ain't she as kind as -kind can be to everybody about 'er? Why, it's in everybody's mouth, -'xcept Mr. Whimpole's! Nobody 'xcept 'im's got a word to say agin -'_er_. She's sure to get well, Mr. Cohen, and then yer'll let me see -'er, sir, won't yer?" - -"Yes, Prissy, yes," said Aaron, laying his hand for a moment on -Prissy's tangled hair. He had reached his house, and was unlocking the -door. "She will get well, please God, and you shall see her. Thank -you, thank you, my good girl; and now run away." - -"I'm off, Mr. Cohen," said Prissy; "this is going to bring yer luck, -it is." And slipping a large paper parcel into his hand, she scuttled -away. - -He did not know what it was he held until he reached his room, and -then he examined it. When he removed the paper he saw a horseshoe and -two penny pieces which had been rubbed bright with sand, so that they -shone like gold. Something shone in Aaron's eyes as he gazed at the -humble offering. He smiled wistfully, and muttering, "It is an omen of -good fortune; God bless you, little Prissy!" put the shoe and the -pennies carefully aside. Then he stepped softly up the stairs, and -gently tapped at the bedroom door. - -"How is she, nurse?" - -"Bearing up wonderfully, sir." - -"Thank God! The doctor will be here presently. I will wait for him at -the street door." - -He had not long to wait; in a very short time he saw the welcome form -turning the corner, and the doctor, with a friendly, smiling nod, -passed into the house. - -Aaron paced to and fro in the room below, and waited for the word that -was to bring joy or despair to his soul. He had put his slippers on, -in order that his footsteps should not be heard. In such times of -tribulation his thoughts were invariably directed to the Divine -footstool; as with all devout Jews, prayer was part of his life, and -never, since the day of his birth, had he prayed so earnestly and -fervently as now. Every few moments he paused in the supplications he -was sending forth, and went into the passage and listened. He heard no -sound, not a sob, not a cry; and after remaining in the passage -several minutes, he returned to his room and resumed his prayers. His -heart was with Rachel, and he knew that she was thinking of him. In -the light of the perfect love that existed between them, in the -anxious expectancy of these lagging minutes, what mattered poverty or -riches, what mattered mere worldly misfortune? A stout spirit, a -strong shoulder to the wheel, and all would be well; thus much could a -right-minded man do with a cheerful spirit. But here and now he was -helpless, impotent; here and now was impending a graver issue, which -he was powerless to influence. A life--the life of his beloved--was -hanging in the balance; and all he could do was to wait, and hope, and -pray. - -Hush! What was that? An infant's wail--the cry of a new-born child! -With his heart in his ears he stood in the passage, then sank upon the -stairs, with his face in his hands. His child lived--but Rachel! how -was it with her? "Lord of the universe," he prayed, inwardly, "spare -my beloved! With Thee is the fountain of life; by Thy light only do we -see light. Let Thy light shine upon me and upon her!" - -The bedroom door opened and closed, and the doctor came down. The -passage was dark, for it was now evening, and Aaron could not see the -doctor's face. Taking Aaron's arm, which shook in his grasp like a -leaf in a strong wind, the doctor led him into the sitting-room, and -lit the gas. - -"Doctor!" implored Aaron, with clasped hands. - -"You have a little girl." - -"And Rachel--my wife!" - -"Be comforted. She is in no immediate danger. She is a brave and noble -woman. I will return in a couple of hours. The nurse will tell you -when you can go up and see her." - -Aaron laid his head upon the table and wept. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. - - -"Aaron!" - -"My beloved!" - -"Is our darling beautiful?" - -"Very beautiful--like you." - -"You spoil me, dear; you think too much of me." - -"It is not possible, Rachel. Without you my life would not be perfect; -without you I should be a broken man." - -"Oh, my dear, my dear!" she said, clasping his hand tight. "It is out -of my power to repay you for all your goodness to me." - -"You repay me every moment of your life. Not for a throne would I -exchange my place by your side; not for a palace would I exchange my -humble home, with you to hallow it." Their lips met, and there was -silence in the room awhile. - -"Dear husband, you are not disappointed that our child is a girl?" - -"I am rejoiced that we have with us a daughter in Israel. What greater -happiness could I desire? When you are strong, when I hear your -footsteps about the house again, all will be well." - -A holy joy dwelt in her face. "My darling, my darling!" she murmured, -as she held the sleeping babe to her breast. "I had a fear, but it is -gone, a fear that our precious one would be deprived of sight. What -happiness entered my heart when the doctor told me that her eyes were -bright and beautiful, and that she could see! I was fearful that my -affliction might be visited upon her. It would have broken my heart. -But I am blessed--I am happy; our child can see the light, the green -fields, the flowers. If only the gracious Lord will not take her, if -only He will spare her to live to an honoured old age!" - -"He will, He will, my beloved! We must not talk any more. Sleep and -grow strong." - -He sat by her bedside in silence, gazing upon her face, which was as -the face of an angel, and then he stole softly downstairs. He had much -to occupy his thoughts; Rachel's danger happily passed, as he hoped, -he could turn his attention to his worldly affairs, which, indeed, -being at a desperate pass, would have forced themselves to the front -under any circumstances. By the doctor's orders he had been compelled -to make certain purchases which had not only emptied his purse, but -had driven him to the necessity of parting with two or three articles -of jewellery which he and Rachel possessed. These proceeds gone he was -an absolute beggar. - -Never in his life had he been placed in so serious a position. -Difficulties had been encountered and confronted with courage and -success, times of embarrassment had been tided over, losses had been -made good, and he had fought his way cheerfully; but now his heart -sank within him at the prospect that was opening out. Rachel needed -not only care and unremitting attention, but delicacies in the shape -of food, to keep up her strength. Nourishing soups, a glass of port -wine, a chicken--these were no trifles to a man in Aaron's position; -and, unable to afford the regular services of a servant, he had to -look after these matters himself, to perform domestic work, to cook, -and to keep the whole house in order. The nurse's attention was -devoted solely to the sick-room, and he could not therefore look to -assistance from her. Prissy made her appearance daily, but Aaron -dismissed her quickly, feeling the injustice of accepting services for -which he could not pay. It was no easy matter to get rid of Prissy, -who was not only willing but anxious to remain, and she feebly -protested against being turned away so unceremoniously. Her protests -would have been more vigorous had she not entertained a certain awe of -Aaron's strength of character, before which she, as it were, was -compelled to prostrate herself. Thus Aaron, from force of circumstance -and from his inherent sense of justice, was thrown entirely upon his -own resources. - -Counting the money in his purse he calculated that it was sufficient -to last for nine or ten days. In four days the nurse would take her -departure, and then he and Rachel and their babe would be left alone -in the house. At the expiration of less than a week after that he must -be prepared to face the most serious difficulties. He had friends in -London, to whom he had already written, and had received replies of -regret that they were unable to assist him. Mr. Moss had been so good -a friend that he hardly dared appeal again to him, and he resolved to -leave it to the last moment. With a troubled heart, and hardly having -the strength to hope against hope, he went about the house and -attended to his duties. The four days passed, the nurse, having taken -her leave of Rachel, came down to Aaron to receive her wages, and bid -him good-bye. He paid her with a sad smile, and thanked her for her -services. The "good-day" exchanged, she lingered a moment. With quick -apprehension he divined why she delayed. - -"You have something to say to me, nurse, about my wife." - -"Yes, Mr. Cohen, I have," she replied; "and I am glad you have -mentioned it, as I did not know how to bring it out." She paused -again. - -"Well, nurse?" - -"I think you ought to know, Mr. Cohen, that your wife is not so well -as you suppose." - -"Nurse!" - -"She keeps it from you, sir, and has begged me not to alarm you, but -it is my duty. I should never forgive myself if I went away without -speaking. No, sir, she is far from well, and is not getting on as she -ought. She grows weaker and weaker--and baby, too, is not thriving. It -is that which keeps Mrs. Cohen back." - -"What can be done, nurse?" asked Aaron, the agony of his feelings -depicted on his countenance. "Tell me--only tell me!" - -"It isn't for me to say, Mr. Cohen. If I were you I would ask the -doctor to speak plainly." - -"I will, I will. Nurse, does she suffer?" - -"She's just the one to suffer, sir, and to say nothing. It would be a -dreadful thing for you, sir, if----" But here the woman stopped -suddenly and bit her lip. She had said more than she intended. -"Good-day, sir, and I hope we may all be wrong." - -He caught her arm. "No, no, nurse. I will beg the doctor to speak -plainly to me; but he will not be here till to-morrow, and I cannot go -to him and leave my wife and child alone in the house. Finish what you -were about to say. 'It would be a dreadful thing if----'" - -"Well, sir, it is best to face the truth. If your poor lady was to -die." - -"Great God! There is danger, then?" - -"I am afraid there is, sir. Don't take on so, sir, don't! I am sorry I -spoke." - -"You have done what is right," Aaron groaned. - -"We must all of us be prepared, sir; trouble comes to all of us." - -"Alas, it is a human heritage! But you do not know what this means to -me--you do not know what it means to me." - -"Perhaps I have made things out worse than they are; I hope so, I am -sure. But you ask the doctor, sir, and don't give way. I shall think -of your lady a good deal when I'm gone." - -With that, and with a sympathetic look at him, the woman departed. - -At length, at length, the truth had been spoken; at length, at length, -he knew the worst. It was as if a sentence of death had been -pronounced. His Rachel, his beloved wife, the tenderest, the truest -that man had ever been blessed with, was to be taken from him. His -child, also, perhaps; but that was a lesser grief, upon which he had -no heart to brood. His one overwhelming anxiety was for Rachel, who, -as it now seemed to him, was lying at death's door in the room above. - -He had some soup ready, and he took a basin up to her. - -"Can you drink this, dear?" - -"I will try." - -He assisted her to rise, and put a pillow at her back. As he fed her -he watched her face, and he saw that it had grown wan and thin. It was -well for both of them that she could not see him; the sight of his -agony would have deepened her sufferings and added to his own. With -wonderful control he spoke to her with some semblance of cheerfulness, -and his voice and words brought a smile to her lips. So through the -day he ministered to her, and every time he left her room his fears -grew stronger. He did not expect the doctor till the following day, -and he was startled and alarmed when he made his appearance at -nightfall. - -"I happened to be passing," he said to Aaron, "and I thought I would -drop in to see how we are getting along." - -When they came down from the sick-room Aaron observed a graver -expression on his face. - -"It is unfortunate that you have no nurse, Mr. Cohen," he said; "your -wife needs constant care and watchfulness." - -"She will have it, doctor. Is she any better, sir? How is she -progressing?" - -"She is still the same, still the same, no better and no worse." - -"It is not in her favour, doctor, that she remains the same?" - -"No, I cannot conscientiously say it is. At this stage a little -additional strength would be of great assistance to her. Nature's -forces require rallying; but we will hope for the best, Mr. Cohen." - -"We will, doctor, but will hope avail?" - -His sad voice struck significantly upon the doctor's ears. "Perhaps -not, but it is a consolation." - -"There are griefs, sir, for which there is no consolation. I cannot -wrest my thoughts from the selfish view. There are sorrows that come -so close home as to take complete possession of us." - -"It is human, Mr. Cohen, it is natural; but we must not shut out -resignation, fortitude, submission." - -"Doctor, I implore you to conceal nothing from me. It will be -merciful." - -"What is it you wish to know?" - -"Tell me exactly how my wife and child are, so that I may be -prepared"--his voice faltered--"for the worst." - -"You do not know, then?" - -"I fear--but I do not know." - -"We doctors have frequently hard duties to perform, Mr. Cohen, duties -which to others appear cruel. I will speak plainly; it will be best. -It is due to your wife's gentle and loving nature that I have not done -so before, and I yielded to her imploring solicitations, deeming it -likely that you would discover the state of the case from your own -powers of observation. Mr. Cohen, I have rarely had so sad and -affecting an experience as I find here. It would be wrong for me to -say that your wife is not in danger; she has been in danger for some -days past, and it is only an inward moral strength that has supported -her through the crisis. Physically she is very weak, spiritually she -is very strong. She has still a vital power which, under certain -conditions, will be of immense assistance to her, which will enable -her--so far as it is in human power to judge--to pull through. You -will gather from my words that her safety, nay, her life, depends not -so much upon herself as upon others; upon you to some extent, but to a -much greater extent upon her babe. It is her deep love for you both -that has sustained her, that still sustains her. Were anything to -happen to either of you I should fear the gravest results. It would -react upon her, and in her delicate state there would be no hope." - -"I am strong and well bodily, doctor; nothing is likely to happen to -me. Her danger, then, lies in our child?" - -"You have clearly expressed it. Her life hangs upon the life of her -child. So fine and delicate are her susceptibilities, so profound is -her love for those who are dear to her, that I, a doctor, who is -supposed to be nothing if he is not scientific, am compelled to -confess that here my learned theories are at fault. I will no longer -disguise from you that her life hangs upon the balance." - -"And our child, doctor, how is it with her?" - -"I can answer you with less certainty. Something of the delicate -susceptibilities of the mother has in the course of nature entered her -child's being. The baby is not strong, but she may grow into strength; -it is as yet a problem to be solved, and a physician's skill is almost -powerless to help to a happy issue. Hope, Mr. Cohen, hope; and in -bidding you hope, and in explaining matters to you, I have not said -all that it is necessary for me to say. There remains something more." - -"One question first, doctor," said Aaron, in a hushed voice; "if our -child lives, there is hope that my wife will live?" - -"A strong hope; I speak with confidence." - -"And if our child dies?" - -"The mother will die. Forgive me for my cruel frankness." - -"It is the best kindness you can show me. You have something more to -tell me." - -"Something almost as cruel, but it must be spoken. Mr. Cohen, your -wife has been severely tried; the shock of the fire, the shock of her -sudden blindness, both coming so close upon her expected confinement, -have left their effects upon her. If things take a favourable turn -with her it will be imperative, in the course of the next three or -four weeks--earlier if possible, and if she can be removed with -safety--that you take her to a milder climate, where she can be nursed -into permanent' strength. We are going to have a severe winter, and I -will not answer for its effects upon her. From three or four weeks -hence till the spring in a warmer atmosphere, where there are no fogs -or east winds, will be of invaluable service to her, will set her up -probably for many years to come. You must recognise this yourself, and -if by any possibility or sacrifice you can manage it, you must do so." - -"Is it vitally necessary, doctor?" - -"You have used the right word--it is vitally necessary. And now, -good-night, Mr. Cohen. I leave my best wishes behind me." - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - A MOMENTOUS NIGHT. - - -Each day, each hour, Aaron became more anxious and troubled. In the -doctor's plain speaking there was no reading between the lines, and no -possible mistaking of his meaning. The stern truth had been revealed, -and there was no arguing it away. Aaron saw clearly what was before -him, but he could not see a way out of his difficulties, nor to doing -what he was warned it was imperative upon him that he should do, in -the happy event of Rachel's coming safely through her present crisis. -There was no apparent change in her; she lay weak and powerless in her -bed, receiving Aaron always with sweet and patient words, and nursing -her child as well as her feeble state would allow her. The condition -of the babe pained and troubled him. He observed no indication of -suffering, no querulousness in the child; it was simply that she lay -supine, as though life were flowing quietly out of her. Every time -Aaron crept up to the bedside and found the babe asleep, he leant -anxiously over her to catch the sound of her breathing; and so faint -and low was her respiration that again and again he was smitten with a -fear that she had passed away. Acutely sensitive and sensible now of -every sign in his wife, it became with him an absolute conviction that -the doctor was not mistaken when he declared that her life and the -life of her babe were inseparable, that if one lived the other would -live, that if one died the other would die. During this torturing time -strange thoughts oppressed him, and oppressed him more powerfully -because he scarcely understood them. The tenor of these thoughts -resolved itself into the one passionate desire to do something--he -knew not what--to keep his wife with him even if she should lose her -babe, and towards the accomplishment of which he felt that a power -outside the sphere of human influence was necessary. Normally he was a -man of sound understanding, not given to mysticism nor to a belief in -the effects of supernatural power upon mundane affairs; but during -these agitating days there was a danger of his healthy mind becoming -unbalanced. Human resource had failed him; he must seek elsewhere for -aid; if he were to be successful in steering his beloved to a haven of -peace and health it must be through outside influences which had not -yet made themselves visible to him. "Show me the way, O gracious Lord, -show me the way!" This was his constant prayer, and although in less -agitated times he would have blamed himself for praying for a seeming -impossibility, he encouraged himself in it now, in the dim and -despairing hope that some miracle would occur to further his agonising -desire. - -Meanwhile his funds had run completely out, and he saw with terror the -wolf approaching the door. He had not the means to pay for the -necessaries of the next twenty-four hours. Then it was that he -resolved to make an urgent appeal to Mr. Moss. He would tell him -everything, he would reveal his hapless position in the plainest -terms, and he would beg for an immediate temporary loan of money, -which he would promise to faithfully repay when the cloud was lifted -from his house. - -It was a cold and bitter evening. The snow had been falling heavily; a -fierce wind was raging. He thought of poor people he had seen in such -inclement weather as this walking along with sad faces, homeless and -hungry; he recalled the picture of a young good-looking woman whom he -had seen years ago in a London park during a heavy snow-storm; she was -thinly clad, want was in her face, she pressed a babe to her bosom. -Shivering with cold she walked slowly onward, and looked around with -despairing eyes for succour. He slipped a shilling into her hand, and -as he hurried away, he heard, with a feeling of remonstrant shame, her -gratitude expressed in the words "God Almighty bless you, sir!" as -though he had performed an act of extraordinary generosity. Between -this wretched woman and his beloved Rachel there seemed to be an -affinity, and his heart was torn with woe. He was the breadwinner; to -him she looked for food, for warmth, for shelter; he was her shield. -Could he not keep desolation and despair from her? could he not keep -death from her? He did not know that the angel was already in his -house. - -The doctor had paid a visit early in the morning, and had spoken even -more gravely of Rachel. - -"Much depends," he said, "upon the next day or two. For some days past -she has been silently suffering, and I have succeeded in piercing the -veil of sorrow which hangs upon her soul. She fears that her child -will not live, and if unhappily her fears are confirmed----" He did -not finish the sentence; there was no need for further words to convey -his meaning. "This harrowing thought," he continued, "keeps her from -rest, prevents her sleeping. There are periods of sickness when sleep -means life. I will send round a sleeping draught, which you will give -her at eight o'clock to-night; it will ensure her oblivion for a good -twelve hours, and if when she wakes all is well with the child, all -will be well with her." - -"Can you tell me, doctor, why this fear has grown stronger within -these last few days?" - -"The babe lies quietly in her arms; she does not hear its voice, and -only by its soft breathing can she convince herself that it lives. -Tender accents from the child she has brought into the world would -fall as a blessing upon her sorrowing heart. At any moment the child -may find its voice; let us hope that it will very soon." - -The sleeping draught was sent to Aaron, and it was now on the table. -The hour was six--in a couple of hours he would give it to her; and -while he waited he sat down to write his letter to Mr. Moss. It was a -long letter, for he had much to say, and he was but half way through -when a postman's knock summoned him to the street door. He hurried -there quickly, so that the knock should not be repeated, and to his -surprise received a telegram. It was from Mr. Moss, and it informed -him that that gentleman was coming to see him upon a very important -matter, and that he was to be sure not to leave home that night. Aaron -wondered what this important matter could be, and there was a joyful -feeling in his heart that the telegram might be the presage of good -fortune. He knew enough of Mr. Moss's kindly nature to be convinced -that he would not be the herald of bad news. "There is a rift in the -clouds," he murmured, as he pondered over the message; "I see the -light, I see the light!" Would Mr. Moss's errand open up a means of -giving Rachel the benefit of soft air and sunshine in a more genial -clime? He prayed that it might, and he had never prayed more -fervently. But the night was inclement, and Mr. Moss might not be able -in consequence to pay the promised visit. Time pressed; the necessity -was imminent, and would brook no delay; therefore he determined to -finish his letter and to post it this night, in the event of Mr. Moss -not making his appearance. - -It wanted a few minutes to eight when his task was completed. He read -the letter over, and addressed an envelope, but did not stamp it; he -had but one stamp, and every penny was of importance. He looked at the -clock; eight o'clock. With gentle steps he went up to Rachel. - -"It is time for the draught, my love," he said. - -"I will take it, dear." - -He poured it into a glass, and she drank it reclining in his arms. - -"If our dear one lives, Aaron," said Rachel, "we will call her Ruth, -after your mother." - -"It shall be so, love," answered Aaron, laying her head upon the -pillow. "God will vouchsafe the mercy to us. She will live, Rachel, -she will live!" Desirous that she should not talk now that she had -taken the sleeping draught, he kissed her tenderly and would have left -her, but she held him by the hand. - -"Has the doctor told you that I am in sorrow, Aaron?" - -"You have the gift of divinity, love. Yes, he has told me, and he said -that to-morrow, perhaps, please God, you will hear our darling's -voice." - -"Did he say so? Heaven bless him! She is sleeping?" - -"Yes, beloved." - -"I pray that the good doctor may be right. I shall dream of it. -To-morrow--perhaps to-morrow! Ah, what happiness! It needs but that, -dear husband, it needs but that! How tired you must be with all that -you are doing for me! Kiss me again. God guard you!" - -And so she fell asleep. - -The small fire in the room required attention, and Aaron arranged each -piece of coal and cinder with scrupulous care; never had there been so -much need for thrift as now. In all his movements there was not the -least sound; so softly did he step that his feet might have been shod -with velvet pile. One of Rachel's arms was lying exposed on the -counterpane; he gently shifted it beneath the warm coverings; then he -quitted the apartment and closed the door upon his wife and child, and -upon the Angel of Death, who was standing by the bedside to receive a -departing soul. - -Aaron did not return to his room below; he stood by the open street -door, looking anxiously up and down for Mr. Moss, and thinking with -sadness that if that gentleman delayed his visit he would be compelled -in the morning to part with his silver-mounted pipe, which was the -only article of any value that was left to him. Of all his personal -belongings he cherished this pipe the most; so often had she filled it -for him that he regarded it almost as part of herself. It was not -between his lips at the present moment; he had no heart to smoke. For -nearly an hour he stood upon the watch, interrupting it only for the -purpose of creeping upstairs to see if Rachel were still sleeping. At -nine o'clock Mr. Moss made his welcome appearance in the street; even -as he turned the corner at a distance of many yards Aaron recognised -him. He was enveloped in his great fur coat, which was pulled up close -to his ears; he was puffing at one of his large cigars, and between -the puffs was humming a celebrated air from the latest operatic -success-- - - - "Toreador attento, - Toreador, Toreador, - Non obliarche un occhio tutt' ardor - Adammirarti è intento, - E che t' aspett' amor, - Toreador t' aspett' aspetta amor." - - -He scorned the English tongue in operas, and though by no means a -well-educated man, never sang but in Italian. The last flourish -brought him close to Aaron. - -"Why, Cohen" he said, in a hearty tone, "what are you standing at the -door for on such a cold night?" - -"I have been expecting you," Aaron answered, "and I did not wish you -to knock. Rachel has taken a sleeping draught, and must not be -disturbed." - -"Yes, yes, I understand," said Mr. Moss, accompanying his friend into -the house. "How is she?" - -"Not well, not at all well, I am grieved to say. Mr. Moss, my heart is -almost broken." He turned aside with a sob. - -"No, no, no!" exclaimed Mr. Moss. "That will never do, Cohen. You -mustn't give way--a strong, clever man like you. Look on the best -side. Things will right themselves; they will, mark my words. I am -here to set them right." - -"To set them right!" exclaimed Aaron, all his pulses throbbing. - -"Yes, to set them right. What is this?--an envelope addressed to me?" - -"I was writing you a letter when your telegram arrived." - -"And then you did not stop to finish it?" - -"I did finish it, Mr. Moss, in case you did not come." - -"May I read it?" - -"Yes; it will explain matters; you will learn from it what it would -pain me to tell you in any other way." - -"Smoke a cigar while I read." - -Aaron took the cigar, and laid it aside, and then Mr. Moss, who had -taken off his thick coat, sat down and perused the letter. - -"I have come in the nick of time, Cohen," he said. "There is a silver -lining to every cloud; I have brought it with me." - -"I felt," said Aaron, his hopes rising, "that you could not be the -bearer of bad news." - -"Not likely, friend Cohen. I am the bearer of good news, of the best -of news. Don't be led away; it isn't a legacy--no, no, it isn't a -legacy, but something almost as good, and I hope you will not throw -away the chance." - -"If it is anything that will relieve me from my terrible -embarrassments it is not likely that I shall throw it away." - -"It will do that for a certainty, and there is money attaching to it -which I have in my pocket, and which I can pay over to you this very -night." - -"How can I thank you? how can I thank you?" - -"Don't try to, and don't be surprised at what you hear. It is a -strange piece of business, and I should have refused to undertake it -if I had not said to myself, 'This will suit my friend Cohen; it will -lift him out of his trouble.' But upon my word, now that I'm here I -don't know how to commence. I never met with anything like it in all -my life, and if you were well off you would be the last man in the -world I should have dreamt of coming to. But you are not well off, -Cohen; you have lost everything; Rachel is ill, and the doctor says -she must be taken out of this cold and dismal climate to a place where -she can see the sun, and where the air is mild and warm. I dare say -you're thinking, 'Moss is speaking in a strange way,' and so I am; but -it's nothing to what I've got to tell you. Cohen, what will happen if -you can't afford to do as the doctor advises you?" - -"Do not ask me," groaned Aaron. "I dare not think of it--I dare not, I -dare not!" - -"I don't say it unkindly, Cohen, but it seems to me to be a matter of -life and death." Aaron clasped his forehead. "Very well, then; and -don't forget that it is in your own hands. Before I commence I must -say a word about myself. I can't do all you ask me in this letter; as -I'm a living man I should be glad to assist you, but I have entered -into a large speculation which has taken all my spare cash, and all I -could afford would be eight or ten pounds. How long would that last -you? In two or three weeks it would be gone, and you would be no -better off than you were before; and as to taking Rachel to the South -of France, that would be quite out of the question." - -"But you held out hope to me," said the trembling Aaron, "you said you -were the bearer of good news!" - -"I said what is true, Cohen, but it is not my money that I have to -deal with. I have brought fifty pounds with me; another man's money, -entrusted to me for a special purpose, and which you can have at once -if you will undertake a certain task and accept a certain -responsibility. It is only out of my friendship for you, it is only -because I know you to be so badly off that you hardly know which way -to turn, it is only because Rachel is ill and requires what you can't -afford to pay for, that it entered my mind to offer you the chance." - -"Fifty pounds would be the saving of me, Mr. Moss," said Aaron, in an -agony of suspense. "It would restore my Rachel to health, it would -bring happiness into my life. Surely Heaven has directed you to come -to my assistance!" - -"You shall judge for yourself. Listen patiently to what I am going to -tell you; it will startle you, but don't decide hastily or rashly. And -bear in mind that what passes between us is not to be disclosed to -another person on earth." - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - OVER A BRIGHT CLOUD A BLACK SHADOW FALLS. - - -Mr. Moss then proceeded to unfold the nature of the mission he had -undertaken for Mr. Gordon, with the particulars of which the reader -has been made acquainted in the earlier chapters of this story. Aaron -listened with attention and astonishment: with attention because of -his anxiety to ascertain whether the proposal was likely to extricate -him from his cruel position, with astonishment because the wildest -stretch of his imagination would not have enabled him to guess the -purport of the singular disclosure. When Mr. Moss ceased speaking the -afflicted man rose and paced the room in distress and disappointment. - -"I told you I should startle you," said Mr. Moss, with a shrewd -observance of his friend's demeanour, and, for the good of that -friend, preparing for a battle. "What do you say to it?" - -"It is impossible--impossible!" muttered Aaron. "I told you also," -continued Mr. Moss, calmly, "not to decide hastily or rashly. In the -way of ordinary business I should not, as I have said, have dreamt of -coming to you, and I should not have undertaken the mission. But the -position in which you are placed is not ordinary, and you are bound to -consider the matter not upon its merits alone, but in relation to your -circumstances. I need not say I shall make nothing out of it myself." - -"Indeed you need not," said Aaron, pressing Mr. Moss's hand. "Pure -friendship has brought you here, I know, I know; but surely you must -see that it is impossible for me to assume the responsibility." - -"I see nothing of the kind. Honestly and truly, Cohen, I look upon it -as a windfall, and if you turn your back upon it you will repent it -all your life. What is it I urge you to do? A crime?" - -"No, no, I do not say that. Heaven forbid!" - -"You are naturally startled and agitated. Cohen, you are a man of -intelligence and discernment. My wife has often said, 'If Mr. Cohen -were a rich man he would be one of the heads of our people.' She is -right; she always is. But there are times when a man cannot exercise -his judgment, when he is so upset that his mind gets off its balance. -It has happened to me, and I have said afterwards, 'Moss, you are a -fool': it happens to all of us. Let me put the matter clearly before -you. Have you ever been in such trouble as you are in now?" - -"Never in my life." - -"Misfortune after misfortune has fallen upon you. All your money is -gone; everything is gone; you can't get through this week without -assistance. You have tried all your friends, and they cannot help you; -you have tried me, and I can only offer you what will meet the -necessities of the next few days. It is known that you are badly off, -and you cannot get credit; if you could it would cut you to the soul, -because you know you would be owing money that there was no -expectation of your being able to pay. You would be ashamed to look -people in the face; you would lose your sense of self-respect, and -every fresh step you take would be a step down instead of up. Poor -Rachel is lying sick almost to death; she has a stronger claim than -ever upon your love, upon your wisdom. The doctor has told you what -she requires, and of the possible consequences if you are unable to -carry out his directions. Cohen, not one of these things must be lost -sight of in the answer you give to what I propose." - -Great beads of perspiration were on Aaron's forehead as he murmured, -"I do not lose sight of them. They are like daggers in my heart." - -"Strangely and unexpectedly," pursued Mr. Moss, "a chance offers -itself that will extricate you out of all your difficulties. You will -not only receive immediately a large sum of money, but you will be in -receipt of a hundred a year, sufficient to keep your family in a -modest way. What are you asked to do in return for this good fortune? -To take care of an innocent child, who has no one to look after her, -who will never be claimed, and about whom you will never be troubled. -You can engage a servant to attend to her, and when you explain -everything to Rachel she will approve of what you have done. Before I -came to you, Cohen, I consulted a gentleman--Dr. Spenlove--who has a -kind heart and correct principles, and he agreed with me that the -transaction was perfectly honourable. I have no doubt of it myself, or -I should not be here. Be persuaded, Cohen; it will be a benevolent, as -well as a wise, act, and all your difficulties will be at an end. What -is it Shakespeare says? 'There is a tide in the affairs of men which, -taken at the flood,----' you know the rest. Why, there are thousands -who would jump at the opportunity. Come, now, for Rachel's sake!" Mr. -Moss was genuinely sincere in his advice, and he spoke with -earnestness and feeling. - -"The child is a girl, Mr. Moss?" - -"A dear little girl, of the same age as your own." - -"Hush! You forget. This little stranger is born of Christian parents." - -"That is no crime, Cohen." - -"Do I say it is? But we are Jews. The stipulation is that she should -be brought up as one of our family; and, indeed, it could scarcely be -otherwise. She would live her life in a Jewish household. It is that I -am thinking of Mr. Moss, I am at war with my conscience." - -"She will be none the worse off for living with you and Rachel. Your -character is well known, and Rachel is the soul of kindness. You would -be committing no sin, Cohen." - -"I am not so sure." - -"Then who is to know? You and Rachel are alone, and when she is able -to be moved you will take her for a time to another place. You need -not return here. Rachel's health restored, you should go to London, or -Liverpool, or Manchester, where your talents would have a larger -field. I always thought it wrong for you to bury yourself in so small -a town as this. There is no scope for you in it; you would never make -your fortune here." - -"If I go from this place I shall not return to it. You ask who is to -know. Mr. Moss, God would know; Rachel and I would know. How can I -reconcile it with my conscience to bring up a child in a faith in -which she is not born? It would weigh heavily upon me." - -"That is because your views are so strict. I do not see why it should -weigh heavily upon you. If it were a boy I should not press it upon -you; but girls are different. There is very little for them to learn. -To pray--there is only one God. To be good and virtuous--there is only -one code of morality. You know that well enough." - -"I do know it, but still I cannot reconcile it with my conscience." - -"In your position," continued Mr. Moss, perceiving that Aaron was -wavering, "I should not hesitate; I should thank God that such a -chance fell in my way. Even as it is, if I did not have eleven -children, and expecting the twelfth, I would take this lamb into my -fold--I would indeed, Cohen. But my hands are full. Cohen, let me -imagine a case. It is a cold and bitter night, and the world is filled -with poor struggling creatures, with little children who are being -brought up the wrong way. Rachel is asleep upstairs. You are here -alone. Suddenly you fancy you hear a cry in the street, the cry of a -babe. You go to the door, and upon the step you see an infant lying, -unsheltered, without a protector. What would you do?" - -"I should bring it into my house." - -"With pity in your heart, Cohen." - -"I hope so. With pity in my heart." - -"Poor as you are, you would share what you have with the deserted -babe; you would nourish it, you would cherish it. You would say to -Rachel, 'I heard a cry outside the house on this bitter night, and -upon the doorstep I discovered this poor babe; I brought it in, and -gave it shelter.' What would Rachel answer?" - -"She is a tender-hearted woman; she would answer that I did what was -right." - -"Look upon it in that light, and I will continue the case. In the -child's clothes you find a fifty-pound note, and a letter unsigned, to -the effect that the little one has no protector, is alone in the -world, and beseeching you to take charge of it and save it from -destitution and degradation. No scruples as to the child being a -Christian would disturb you then; you would act as humanity dictated. -In the case I have imagined you would not be at war with your -conscience; why should you be at war with it now?" - -"Still I must reflect; and I have a question or two to ask. The name -of the mother?" - -"Not to be divulged." - -"The name of the father?" - -"The same answer. Indeed, I do not know it myself." - -"Where is the child?" - -"At the Salutation Hotel, in the charge of a woman I brought with me." - -"My decision must be made to-night?" - -"To-night." - -"Supposing it to be in the affirmative, what position do you occupy in -the matter in the future?" - -"None whatever. The task I undertook executed, I retire, and have -nothing further to do with it. Anything you chose to communicate to me -would be entirely at your discretion. Voluntarily I should never make -reference to it." - -"What has passed between us, you informed me, is not to be disclosed -to any other person?" - -"To no other person whatever." - -"Am I to understand that it has been disclosed to no other?" - -"You are. Only Dr. Spenlove and the gentleman who entrusted me with -the commission have any knowledge of it." - -"How about the woman who is now taking care of the child at the -Salutation Hotel?" - -"She is in entire ignorance of the whole proceeding." - -"Is she not aware that you have come to my house?" - -"She is not. In the event of your deciding to undertake the charge I -myself will bring the child here." - -"Is the mother to be made acquainted with my name?" - -"It is an express stipulation that she is to be kept in ignorance of -it." - -"And to this she consented willingly?" - -"Willingly, for her child's good and her own." - -"Is Dr. Spenlove to be made acquainted with it?" - -"He is not." - -"And the gentleman whose commission you are executing?" - -"Neither is he to know. It is his own wish." - -"The liberal allowance for the rearing of the child, by whom will it -be paid?" - -"By a firm of respectable London lawyers, whose name and address I -will give you, and to whom I shall communicate by telegram to-night. -All the future business will be solely between you and them, without -interference from any living being." - -"Mr. Moss, I thank you; you have performed the office of a friend." - -"It was my desire, Cohen. Then you consent?" - -"No. I must have time for reflection. In an hour from now you shall -have my answer." - -"Don't throw away the chance," said Mr. Moss, very earnestly. -"Remember it is for Rachel's sake." - -"I will remember it; but I must commune with myself. If before one -hour has passed you do not see me at the Salutation Hotel, you will -understand that I refuse." - -"What will you do then, Cohen? How will you manage?" - -"God knows. Perhaps He will direct me." - -Mr. Moss considered a moment, then took ten five-pound banknotes from -his pocket, and laid them on the table. - -"I will leave this money with you," he said. - -"No, no!" cried Aaron. - -"Why not? It will do no harm. You are to be trusted, Cohen. In case -you refuse I will take it back. If you do not come for me, I will come -for you, so I will not wish you good-night. Don't trouble to come to -the door; I can find my way out." - -Aaron was alone, fully conscious that this hour was, perhaps, the most -momentous in his life. The money was before him, and he could not keep -his eyes from it. It meant so much. It seemed to speak to him, to say, -"Life or death to your beloved wife. Reject me, and you know what will -follow." All his efforts to bring himself to a calm reflection of the -position were unavailing. He could not reason, he could not argue with -himself. The question to be answered was not whether it would be right -to take a child born of Christian parents into his house, to bring her -up as one of a Jewish family, but whether his dear wife was to live or -die; and he was the judge, and if he bade his friend take the money -back, he would be the executioner. Of what value then would life be to -him? Devout and full of faith as he was, he still, in this dread -crisis, was of the earth earthy. His heart was torn with love's agony. - -The means of redemption were within his reach: why should he not avail -himself of them? - -Rachel enjoyed life for the pleasure it gave her. Stricken with -blindness as she was, he knew that she would still enjoy it, and that -she would shed comfort and happiness upon all who came in contact with -her. Was it for him to snap the cord, to say, "You shall no longer -enjoy, you shall no longer bestow happiness upon others; you shall no -longer live to lighten the trouble of many suffering mortals, to shed -light and sweetness in many homes"? Was this the way to prove his love -for her? No, he would not shut the door of earthly salvation which had -been so providentially opened to him, he would not pronounce a -sentence of death against the dear woman he had sworn to love and -cherish. - -Aaron was not aware that in the view he was taking he was calling to -his aid only those personal and sympathetic affections which bound him -and Rachel together, and that, out of a common human selfishness, he -was thrusting from the scale the purely moral and religious -obligations which usually played so large a part in his conduct of -life. In this dark hour love was supreme, and held him in its thrall; -in this dark hour he was intensely and completely human; in this dark -hour the soft breathing of a feeble woman was more potent than the -sound of angels' trumpets from the Throne of Grace, the sight of a -white, worn face more powerful than that of a flaming sword of justice -in the skies. - -He had arrived at a decision; he would receive the child of strangers -into his home. - -Before going to the Salutation Hotel to make the announcement to Mr. -Moss he would see that his wife was sleeping, and not likely to awake -during his brief absence from the house. The doctor had assured him -that she would sleep for twelve hours, and he had full confidence in -the assurance; but he must look upon her face once more before he left -her even for a few minutes. - -He stood at her bedside. She was sleeping peacefully and soundly; her -countenance was now calm and untroubled, and Aaron believed that he -saw in it an indication of returning health. Certainly the rest she -was enjoying was doing her good. He stooped and kissed her, and she -did not stir; her sweet breath fanned his cheeks. Then he turned his -eyes upon his child; and as he gazed upon the infant, in its white -dress, a terror for which there is no name stole into his heart. Why -was the babe so still and white? Like a marble statue she lay, bereft -of life and motion. He put his ear to her lips--not a breath escaped -them; he laid his hand upon her heart--not the faintest flutter of a -pulse was there. With feverish haste he lifted the little hand, the -head, the body, and for all the response he received he might have -been handling an image of stone. Gradually the truth forced itself -upon him. The young soul had gone to its Maker. His child was dead! - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. - - -"If our child lives, there is hope that my wife will live?" - -"A strong hope. I speak with confidence." - -"And if our child dies?" - -"The mother will die." - -No voice was speaking in the chamber of death, but Aaron heard again -these words, which had passed between the doctor and himself. If the -child lived, the mother would live; if the child died, the mother -would die. - -A black darkness fell upon his soul. His mind, his soul, every -principle of his being, was engulfed in the one despairing thought -that Rachel was doomed, that, although she was sleeping peacefully -before his eyes, death would be her portion when she awoke to the fact -that her babe had been taken from her. - -"If, when she wakes, all is well with the child, all will be well with -her." - -The spiritual echo of the doctor's words uttered but a few hours ago. -He heard them as clearly as he had heard the others. - -How to avert the threatened doom? How to save his Rachel's life? -Prayer would not avail, or he would have flown to it instinctively. It -was not that he asked himself the question, or that in his agony he -doubted or believed in the efficacy of prayer. It may be, indeed, that -he evaded it, for already a strange and terrible temptation was -invading the fortress of his soul. To save the life of his beloved was -he ready to commit a sin? What was the true interpretation of sin? A -perpetrated act which would benefit one human being to the injury of -another. Then, if an act were perpetrated which would ensure the -happiness and well-doing not of one human creature, but of three, -and would inflict injury upon no living soul, that act was not a -sin--unmistakably not a sin. But if this were really so, wherefore the -necessity for impressing it upon himself? The conviction that he was -acting justly in an hour of woe, that the contemplated act was not -open to doubt in a moral or religious sense, was in itself sufficient. -Wherefore, then, the iteration that it was not a sin? - -He could not think the matter out in the presence of Rachel and of his -dead child. He stole down to his room, and gave himself up to -reflection. He turned down the gas almost to vanishing point, and -stood in the dark, now thinking in silence, now uttering his thoughts -aloud. - -A friend had come to him and begged him to receive into his household -a babe, a girl, of the same age as his own babe lying dead in the room -above. She was deserted, friendless, alone. All natural claims had -been abandoned, and the infant was thrown upon the world, without -parents, without kith or kin. Even while he believed his own child to -be alive he had decided to accept the trust. Why should he hesitate -now that his child was dead? It was almost like a miraculous -interposition, or so he chose to present it to himself. - -"Even as we spoke together," he said aloud, "my child had passed away. -Even as I hesitated the messenger was urging me to accept the trust. -It was as if an angel had presented himself, and said, 'The life of -your beloved hangs upon the life of a babe, and the Eternal has called -her child to Him. Here is another to take her place. The mother will -not know; she is blind, and has never seen the face of her babe, has -scarcely heard its voice. To-morrow she lives or dies--it is the -critical day in her existence--and whether she lives or dies rests -with you, and with you alone. Science is powerless to help her in her -hour of trial; love alone will lift her into life, into joy, into -happiness; and upon you lies the responsibility. It is for you to -pronounce the sentence--life or death for your beloved, life or death -for a good woman who, if you do not harden your heart, will shed peace -and blessings upon all around her. Embrace the gift that God has -offered you. Allow no small scruples to drive you from the duty of -love.' Yes," cried Aaron in a louder tone, "it was as if an angel -spoke. Rachel shall live!" - -If there was sophistry in this reasoning he did not see it; but the -still small voice whispered,-- - -"It is a deception, you are about to practise. You are about to place -in your wife's arms a child that is not of her blood or yours. You are -about to take a Christian babe to your heart, to rear and instruct her -as if she were born in the old and sacred faith that has survived long -centuries of suffering and oppression. Can you justify it?" - -"Love justifies it," he answered. "The good that will spring from it -justifies it. A sweet and ennobling life will be saved. My own life -will be made the better for it, for without my beloved I should be -lost, I should be lost!" - -Again the voice: "It is of yourself you are thinking." - -"And if I am," he answered, "if our lives are so interwoven that one -would be useless and broken without the other, where is the sin?" - -Again the voice: "Ah, the sin! You have pronounced the word. Remember, -it is a sin of commission." - -"I know it," he said, "and I can justify it--and can I not atone for -it in the future? I will atone for it, if the power is given me, by -charity, by good deeds. In atonement, yes, in atonement. If I can -relieve some human misery, if I can lift a weight from suffering -hearts, surely that will be reckoned to my account. I record here a -solemn vow to make this a purpose of my life. And the child!--she will -be reared in a virtuous home, she will have a good woman for a mother. -With such an example before her she cannot fail to grow into a bright -and useful womanhood. That will be a good work done. I pluck her from -the doubtful possibilities which might otherwise attend her; no word -of reproach will ever reach her ears; she will live in ignorance of -the sad circumstances of her birth. Is all this nothing? Will it not -weigh in the balance?" - -Again the voice: "It is much, and the child is fortunate to fall into -the hands of such protectors. But I repeat, in using these arguments -you are not thinking of the child; you think only of yourself." - -"It is not so," he said; "not alone of myself am I thinking. I am the -arbiter of my wife's earthly destiny. Having the opportunity of -rescuing her from death, what would my future life be if I stand idly -by and see her die before my eyes? Do you ask of me that I shall be -her executioner? The heart of the Eternal is filled with love; He -bestows upon us the gift of love as our divinest consolation. He has -bestowed it upon me in its sublimest form. Shall I lightly throw away -the gift, and do a double wrong--to the child that needs a home, to -the woman whose fate is in my hands? Afflict me no longer; I am -resolved, and am doing what I believe to be right in the sight of the -Most High." - -The voice was silent, and spake no more. - -Aaron turned up the gas, took the money which Mr. Moss had left upon -the table, and quietly left the house. As he approached the Salutation -Hotel, which was situated at but a short distance, he saw the light of -Mr. Moss's cigar in the street. That gentleman was walking to and fro, -anxiously awaiting the arrival of his friend. - -"You are here, Cohen," he cried, "and the hour has barely passed. That -is a good omen. How pale you are, and you are out of breath. In order -that absolute secrecy should be preserved I thought it best to wait -outside for you. You have decided?" - -"I have decided," said Aaron, in a husky voice. "I will receive the -child." - -"Good, good, good," said Mr. Moss, his eyes beaming with satisfaction. -"You are acting like a sensible man, and you have lifted yourself out -of your difficulties. I cannot tell you how glad you make me, for I -take a real interest in you, a real interest. Remain here; I will -bring the babe, and we will go together to your house. It is well -wrapped up, and we will walk quickly to protect it from the night air. -I shall not be a minute." - -He darted into the hotel, and soon returned, with the babe in his -arms. Upon Aaron's offering to take the child from him, he said, -gaily, "No, no, Cohen'; I am more used to carrying babies than you. -When you have a dozen of them, like me, I will admit that we are -equal; but not till then, not till then." - -Although his joyous tones jarred upon Aaron he made no remark, and -they proceeded to Aaron's house, Mr. Moss being the loquacious one on -the road. - -"The woman I brought with me does not know, does not suspect, where -the child is going to, so we are safe. She goes back to Portsmouth -to-night; I shall remain till the morning. The baby is fast asleep. -What would the world be without children? Did you ever think of that, -Cohen? It would not be worth living in. A home without children--I -cannot imagine it. When I see a childless woman I pity her from my -heart. They try to make up for it with a cat or a dog, but it's a poor -substitute, a poor substitute. If I had no children I would adopt one -or two--yes, indeed. There is a happy future before this child; if she -but knew, if she could speak, her voice would ring out a song of -praise." - -When they arrived at the house Aaron left Mr. Moss in the room below, -and ran up to ascertain if Rachel had been disturbed. She had not -moved since he last quitted the room, and an expression of profound -peace was settling on her face. His own child lay white and still. A -heavy sigh escaped him as he gazed upon the inanimate tiny form. He -closed the door softly, and rejoined his friend. - -"I will not stay with you, Cohen," said Mr. Moss; "you will have -enough to do. To-morrow you must get a woman to assist in the house. -You have the fifty pounds safe?" Aaron nodded. "I have some more money -to give you, twenty-five pounds, three months' payment in advance of -the allowance to be made to you for the rearing of the child. Here it -is, and here, also, is the address of the London lawyers, who will -remit to you regularly at the commencement of every quarter. You have -only to give them your address, and they will send the money to you. I -shall not leave Gosport till eleven in the morning, and if you have -anything to say to me I shall be at the Salutation till that hour. -Good-night, Cohen; I wish you happiness and good fortune." - -Alone with the babe, who lay on the sofa, which had been drawn up to -the fire, Aaron stood face to face with the solemn responsibility he -had taken upon himself, and with the still more solemn deception to -which he was pledged. For awhile he hardly dared to uncover the face -of the sleeping child, but time was precious, and he nerved himself to -the necessity. He sat on the sofa, and gently removed the wrappings -which had protected the child from the cold night, but had not impeded -its powers of respiration. - -A feeling of awe stole upon him; the child he was gazing on might have -been his own dead child, so strong was the resemblance between them. -There was a little hair upon the pretty head, as there was upon the -head of his dead babe; it was dark, as hers was; there was a singular -resemblance in the features of the children; the limbs, the feet, -the little baby hands, the pouting mouth, might have been cast in the -same mould. The subtle instinct of a mother's love would have enabled -her to know instinctively which of the two was her own babe, but it -would be necessary for that mother to be blessed with sight before she -could arrive at her unerring conclusion. A father could be easily -deceived, and the tender age of the children would have been an -important--perhaps the chief--factor in the unconscious error. -"Surely," Aaron thought, as he contemplated the sleeping babe, "this -is a sign that I am acting rightly." Men less devout than he might -have regarded it as a Divine interposition. But though he strove still -to justify his act, doubt followed every argument he used in his -defence. - -The next hour was occupied in necessary details which had not hitherto -occurred to him. The clothing of the children had to be exchanged. It -was done; the dead was arrayed as the living, the living as the dead. -Mere words are powerless to express Aaron's feelings as he performed -this task, and when he placed the living, breathing babe in the bed in -which Rachel lay, and took his own dead child to an adjoining room, -and laid it in his own bed, scalding tears ran down his cheeks. "God -forgive me, God forgive me!" he murmured, again and again. He knelt by -Rachel's bed, and buried his face in his hands. He had committed -himself to the deception; there was no retreat now. For weal or woe, -the deed was done. - -And there was so much yet to do, so much that he had not thought of! -Each false step he was taking was leading to another as false as that -which had preceded it. But if the end justified the means--if he did -not betray himself--if Rachel, awaking, suspected nothing, and heard -the voice of the babe by her side, without suspecting that it was not -her own, why, then, all would be well. And all through his life, to -his last hour, he would endeavour to make atonement for his sin. He -inwardly acknowledged it now, without attempting to gloss it over. It -_was_ a sin; though good would spring from it, though a blessing might -attend it, the act was sinful. - -His painful musings were arrested by a knock at the street door. With -a guilty start he rose to his feet, and gazed around with fear in his -eyes. What did the knock portend? Was it in some dread way connected -with his doings? The thought was harrowing. But presently he -straightened himself, set his lips firmly, and went downstairs to -attend to the summons. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - PLUCKED FROM THE JAWS OF DEATH. - - -Mr. Moss stood at the street door, bearing in his arms the little iron -casket which Dr. Spenlove, at the intercession of the mother who had -consented to part with her child, had entrusted to him. - -"In my excitement, Cohen," he commenced, before Aaron could speak, -"something slipped my memory when we were talking together. I rapped -softly at first, fearing to disturb Rachel, but no one answering, I -had to use the knocker. I hope I have not disturbed her." - -"She is sleeping peacefully," replied Aaron, "and is taking a turn for -the better, I am thankful to say. To-morrow, I trust, all danger will -be over. Come in." - -He closed the door gently, and they entered the parlour. - -"I have come back about this little box," said Mr. Moss, depositing it -on the table; "it belongs to the task I undertook. The mother of the -babe made it a stipulation that whoever had the care of the child -should receive the box, and hold it in trust for her until she claimed -it." - -"But I understood," said Aaron, in apprehension, "that the mother had -no intention of claiming her child." - -"In a certain sense that is true. Don't look worried; there is no fear -of any trouble in the future; only she made it a condition that the -box should go with the child, and that, when the girl was twenty-one -years of age, it should be given to her, in case the mother did not -make her appearance and claim the property. It stands this way, Cohen. -The mother took into consideration the chance that the gentleman she -is marrying may die before her, in which event she stipulated that she -should be free to seek her daughter. That is reasonable, is it not?" - -"Quite reasonable." - -"And natural?" - -"Quite natural. But I should have been informed of it." - -"It escaped me, it really escaped me, Cohen; and what difference can -it make? It is only a mother's fancy." - -"Yes, only a mother's fancy." - -"I'll lay a thousand to one you never hear anything more about it. Put -the box away, and don't give it another thought." - -Aaron lifted it from the table. "It is heavy, Mr. Moss." - -"Yes, it is heavy." - -"Do you know what it contains?" - -"I haven't the slightest idea." - -"It must be something that the mother sets store on--jewels, perhaps." - -"Nothing more unlikely. The poor woman didn't have a shilling to bless -herself with. I shouldn't trouble about it if I were you." - -"I have gone too far," said Aaron, sighing; "I cannot retreat." - -"It would be madness to dream of such a thing. Remember what depends -upon it. Cohen, in case anything occurs, I think I ought to tell you -what has been passing in my mind." - -"In case anything occurs!" repeated Aaron, in a hollow tone, and with -a startled look. "What can occur?" - -"The poor child," continued Mr. Moss, "has had a hard time of it. We -almost dug her out of the snow last night; the exposure was enough to -kill an infant of tender years, and there's no saying what effect it -may have upon her. If it had been a child of my own I should be -alarmed for the consequences, and I should scarcely expect her to live -through it." Aaron gasped. "The idea distresses you, but we must -always take the human view. Should she not survive no one can be -blamed for it. How is your own dear little girl?" - -"She is well," replied Aaron, mechanically. He passed his hand across -his eyes despairingly. The duplicity he was compelled to practise was -hateful to him, and he despised himself for it. - -"Good-night again," said Mr. Moss. "I have sent my telegram to the -London lawyers. Don't forget that I shall be at the Salutation till -eleven in the morning. I should like to hear how Mrs. Cohen is before -I leave." - -It was not only the incident of the iron safe that Mr. Moss, in the -first instance, had omitted to impart to Aaron. In the agreement -formulated by Mr. Gordon there was an undertaking that in the event of -the child's death, or of her marriage if she grew to womanhood, the -lawyers were to pay the sum of five hundred pounds to the person into -whose home the child was received. Mr. Moss had not mentioned this, -and Aaron was in consequence ignorant of the fact. Had he been aware -of it, is it likely that he would have shrunk from carrying out the -scheme inspired by his agony? It is hard to say. During these pregnant -and eventful hours he was dominated by the one overpowering, -passionate desire to save the life of his beloved; during these hours -all that was highest and noblest in his nature was deadened by human -love. - -There was no rest for him on this night; he did not dare to undress -and seek repose. The moments were too precious; some action had to be -taken, and to be taken soon, and, his mind torn with agony and -remorse, he devoted himself to the consideration of it. In the course -of this mental debate he was plunged at times into the lowest depths -of self-abasement; but the strength of his character and the serious -issues at stake lifted him out of these depths. Ever and anon he crept -into Rachel's room and derived consolation from the calm sleep she was -enjoying. The doctor's prognostications of returning health seemed to -be on the point of realisation; when she awoke in the morning and -clasped her child to her bosom, and heard its sweet voice, all would -be well with her. What need, then, for further justification? - -But his further action must be decided upon and carried out before -Rachel awoke. And it was imperative that she should be kept in -ignorance of what had taken place. On no account must it be revealed -to her that he had taken a strange child into the house, and that it -had died there within a few hours. In her delicate state the news -might be fatal. - -Gradually all that it was necessary for him to do unfolded itself, and -was mentally arranged in consecutive order. He waited till three -o'clock, and then he went from his house to the Salutation Hotel. The -night porter, half asleep, was in attendance, and after some demur he -conducted Aaron to Mr. Moss's sleeping apartment. - -"Who is there?" cried Mr. Moss, aroused by the knocking at his door. - -"It is I," replied Aaron; "I must speak to you at once." - -Mr. Moss jumped from bed. - -"Is it all right, sir?" asked the night porter. - -"Of course it is all right," said Mr. Moss, opening the door, and -admitting his visitor. - -The night porter returned to his duties, and fell into a doze. - -"What brings you here at this time of night?" exclaimed Mr. Moss; and -then, seeing the distress in Aaron's face, "Good God! It is not about -Rachel?" - -"No, it is not about Rachel; it is bad enough, but not so bad as that. -How shall I tell you--how shall I tell you?" - -"Stop a moment," said Mr. Moss. "I ordered half a bottle of port -before I went, and there is a glass or two left. Drink this." - -The wine gave Aaron courage to proceed with his task. - -"I have dreadful news to tell you," he said, putting down the glass. - -"I guess it," interrupted Mr. Moss. "The child!" - -"Yes," answered Aaron, with averted eyes, "the child." - -"Is she very ill?" - -"Mr. Moss, the child is dead." - -"Heavens!" cried Mr. Moss, slipping into his clothes as fast as he -could. "What a calamity! But at the same time, Cohen, what a release! -Tell me all about it. Does Rachel know?" - -"Rachel does not know. She is still sleeping, and she must not know. -It would kill her--it would kill her!' - -"I see the necessity, Cohen; it must be kept from her, and I think I -see how it can be managed. It is a fortunate thing that the woman who -accompanied me here with the poor child has not returned to -Portsmouth, as I bade her. She met with some friends in Gosport who -persuaded her to stop the night, and she was going back with me in the -morning. I promised to call for her, but she will have to remain here -now till the child is buried. She will not mind, because it will be -something in her pocket. A sad ending, Cohen, a sad ending, but I -feared it. Did I not prophesy it? What else was to be expected after -last night's adventure? A child of such a tender age!' The wonder is -it did not die in my arms. But you have not told me how it occurred." - -"It is very simple," said Aaron, in a low tone. "I laid the babe in my -own bed, intending to call in a woman as soon after daylight as -possible to attend it till Rachel was well and able to get about. She -seemed to be asleep, and was in no pain. I determined not to go to -bed, but to keep up all night, to attend to the little one, and to -Rachel and my own child---- Bear with me, Mr. Moss, I am unstrung." - -"No wonder. Take time, Aaron, take time." - -"Now and again I went up to look at the babe, and observed nothing to -alarm me. An hour ago I closed my eyes, and must have slept; I was -tired out. When I awoke I went upstairs, and was startled by a strange -stillness in the child. I lifted her in my arms. Mr. Moss, she was -dead. I came to you at once, to advise me what to do. You must help -me, Mr. Moss; my dear Rachel's life hangs upon it. You know how -sensitive she is; and the doctor has warned me that a sudden shock -might be fatal." - -"I will help you, Cohen, of course I will help you; it is my duty, -because it is I who have brought this trouble upon you. But I did it -with the best intentions. I see a way out of the difficulty. The woman -I employed--how fortunate, how fortunate that she is still here!--is a -god-send to us. She is a kind-hearted creature, and she will be sorry -to hear of the child's death, but at the same time she is poor, and -will be glad to earn a sovereign. A doctor must see the child, to -testify that she died a natural death. She must have passed away in -her sleep." - -"She did. Is it necessary that the doctor should visit my house in -order to see the child?" - -"Not at all. I have everything planned in my mind. Now I am ready to -go out. First to the telegraph office--it is open all night here--to -despatch a telegram to the London lawyers to send a representative -down immediately, who, when he comes, will take the affair out of our -hands, I expect. Afterwards to the house of the woman's friends; she -must accompany us to your house, and we will take the child away -before daylight. Then we will call in a doctor, and nothing need reach -Rachel's ears. Don't take it to heart, Cohen; you have troubles enough -of your own. The news you give me of Rachel is the best of news. Joy -and sorrow, Cohen--how close they are together!" - -In the telegraph office Mr. Moss wrote a long message to Mr. Gordon's -lawyers, impressing upon them the necessity of sending a -representative without delay to take charge of the body, and to attend -to the funeral arrangements. - -"Between ourselves, Cohen," he said, as they walked to the house -of the woman's friends, "the lawyers will be rather glad of the news -than otherwise; and so will Mr. Gordon, when it reaches him. I am not -sure whether I made the matter clear to you, but there is no doubt -whatever that, so far as Mr. Gordon is concerned, the child was an -encumbrance--to say nothing of the expense, which perhaps he would not -have minded, being almost a millionaire. But still, as it has turned -out, he has got rid of a difficulty, and he will not be sorry when he -hears of it." - -"And the mother," said Aaron, "how will she take it?" - -"I will not pretend to say. _We_ know, Cohen, what we think of our own -children, but there are people in the world with different ideas from -ours. The mother of this little one will feel grieved at first, no -doubt, but I dare say she will soon get over it. Then, perhaps her -husband will not tell her. Here we are at the woman's house." - -They halted before a small cottage, inhabited by people in humble -circumstances. Before he aroused the inmates, Mr. Moss said,-- - -"I shall keep your name out of the affair, Cohen; but to a certain -extent the woman must be taken into our confidence. Secrecy will be -imposed upon her, and she will be paid for it. Remain in the -background; I will speak to her alone." - -The woman herself came to the door, and when she was dressed Mr. Moss -had a conversation with her, the result of which was that she and the -two men walked to Aaron's house, where she took charge of the dead -child, and carried it to the cottage. Then she went for a doctor--to -Aaron's relief not the doctor who attended his wife--and as there was -no doubt that the child had died a natural death, a certificate to -that effect was given. At six in the morning Aaron returned to Rachel, -and sitting by her bedside, waited for her awakening. The potion she -had taken was to ensure sleep for twelve hours; in two hours he would -hear her voice; in two hours she would be caressing a babe to which -she had not given birth. - -It seemed to Aaron as though months had passed since Mr. Moss had -presented himself at his house last night, and for a while it almost -seemed as though, in that brief time, it was not himself who had -played the principal part in this strange human drama, but another -being who had acted for him, and who had made him responsible for an -act which was to colour all his future life. But he did not permit -himself to indulge long in this view of what had transpired; he knew -and felt that he, and he alone, was responsible, and that to his dying -day he would be accountable for it. Well, he would bear the burden, -and would, every by means within his power, endeavour to atone for it. -He would keep strict watch over himself; he would never give way to -temptation; he would act justly and honourably; he would check the -hasty word; he would make no enemies; he would be kind and considerate -to all around him. He did not lay the flattering unction to his soul -that in thus sketching his future rule of life he was merely -committing himself to that which he had always followed in the past. -This one act seemed to cast a shadow over all that had gone before; he -had to commence anew. - -A strange and agonising fancy haunted him. The child of his blood, -Rachel's child, was lying dead in the house of a stranger. The -customary observances of his religion could not be held over it; -Christians had charge of the lifeless clay. With his mind's eye he saw -his dead child lying in the distant chamber, alone and unattended, -with no sympathising heart near to shed tears over it, with no mourner -near to offer up a prayer in its behalf. The child opened its eyes and -gazed reproachfully upon its father; then it rose from the couch, and -in its white dress went out of the house and walked through the snow -to its father's dwelling. The little bare feet left traces of blood in -the snow, and at the door of its father's house it paused and stood -there crying, "Mother, mother!" So strong was this fancy that Aaron -went to the street door, and, opening it, gazed up and down the -street. The snow was still falling; no signs of life were visible, and -no movement except the light flakes fluttering down. A mantle of -spotless white was spread over roads and roofs, and there was silence -all around. But in Aaron's eyes there was a vision, and in his heart a -dead voice calling. His babe was there before him, and its voice was -crying, "Mother, mother! Why am I deserted? why am I banished from my -father's house?" When he drew back into the passage he hardly dared -shut the street door upon the piteous figure his conscience had -conjured up. - -At eight o'clock in the morning Rachel stirred; she raised her arm and -put her hand to her eyes, blind to all the world, blind to her -husband's sin, blind to everything but love. Then instinctively she -drew the babe nearer to her. A faint cooing issued from the infant's -lips, and an expression of joy overspread the mother's features. This -joy found its reflex in Aaron's heart, but the torturing anxiety under -which he laboured was not yet dispelled. It was an awful moment. Was -there some subtle instinct in a mother's love which would convey to -Rachel's sense the agonising truth that the child she held in her arms -was not her own? - -There was no indication of it. She fondled the child, she suckled it, -the light of Heaven shone in her face. - -"Aaron!" - -"My beloved!" - -"Do you hear our child, our dear one? Ah, what happiness!" - -"Thank God!" said Aaron, inly. "Oh, God be thanked!" - -"Is it early or late, dear love?" asked Rachel. "It is morning, I -know, for I see the light; I feel it here"--with her hand pressing the -infant's head to her heart. - -"It is eight o'clock, beloved," said Aaron. - -"I have had a long and beautiful sleep. I do not think I have dreamt, -but I have been so happy, so happy! My strength seems to be returning; -I have not felt so well since the night of the fire. Our darling seems -stronger, too; it is because I am so much better. I must think of -that; it is a mother's duty to keep well, for her child's sake--and, -dear husband, for your sake also. I do not love you less because I -love our child so dearly." - -"I am sure of that. Should I be jealous of our child? That would be as -foolish as it would be unwise." - -"You speak more cheerfully, Aaron. Is that because of me?" - -"It is because of you, beloved. We both draw life and happiness from -you. Therefore, get strong soon." - -"I shall; I feel I shall. My mind is clear, there is no weight on my -heart. Before many days have passed I shall be out of bed, learning my -new duties. Aaron, our child will live." - -"She will live to bless and comfort us, beloved." - -She passed her hand over his face. "You are crying, Aaron." - -"They are tears of joy, Rachel, at seeing you so much better. A -terrible fear has weighed me down; it is removed, thanks be to the -Eternal. The world was dark till now; I dared not think of the future; -now all is well." - -"Am I, indeed, so much to you, dear husband?" - -"You are my life. As the sun is to the earth, so are you to me." - -The wife, the husband, and the child lay in each other's embrace. - -"God is good," murmured Rachel. "I did so want to live for you and for -our child! But I feared, I feared; strength seemed to be departing -from me. What will they do, I thought, when I am gone? But God has -laid His hand upon us and blessed us. Praised be His name for ever and -ever!" - -"Amen, amen! I have not yet said my morning prayers. It is time." - -She sank back in bed, and he put on his taleth and phylacteries, and -prayed fervently. He did not confine himself to his usual morning -devotions, but sought his book for propitiatory supplications for -forgiveness for transgressions. "Forgive us, oh, our Father! for we -have sinned; pardon us, oh, our King! for we have transgressed; for -Thou art ever ready to pardon and forgive. Blessed art Thou, the -Eternal, who is gracious and doth abundantly pardon." And while he -supplicated forgiveness, Rachel lay and sang a song of love. - -His prayers ended, Aaron folded his taleth and wound up his -phylacteries, and resumed his seat by Rachel's bed. - -"While you slept last night, dear love," he said, "a piece of good -fortune fell to my share, through our friend Mr. Moss. I shall be able -to take a servant in the house." - -"How glad I am!" she answered. "It distressed me greatly to know that -you had everything to attend to yourself. A woman, or a girl, is so -necessary!" - -"There is altogether a brighter outlook for us, Rachel. Do you think -Prissy would do?" - -"She is very handy, and very willing. If you could manage till I can -get up I could soon teach her." - -"I will go, then, and see if she is able to come. You must not mind -being alone a little while." - -"I shall not be alone, dear," said Rachel, with a bright smile at the -child. - -He prepared breakfast for her before he left, and she partook of it -with a keen appetite. Then he went on his mission, and met Mr. Moss -coming to the house. - -"I have received a telegram," said that gentleman, "in reply to mine. -A gentleman will arrive from London this afternoon to attend to -matters. You look brighter." - -"Rachel is much better," said Aaron. - -"You are in luck all round, Cohen. There are men who always fall on -their feet. I'm one of them; you're another. This time yesterday you -were in despair; now you're in clover. Upon my word, I am as glad as -if it had happened to myself. You know one of our sayings--'Next to -me, my wife; next to my wife, my child; next to my child, my friend.' -My good old father told me it was one of the wise sayings of Rabbi -ben--I forget who he was the son of. A friend of ours who used to come -to our house said to my father that there was no wisdom and no -goodness in the saying, because the Rabbi put himself first, as being -of more consequence than wife, and child, and friend. My father -answered, 'You are wrong; there is wisdom, there is goodness, there is -sense in it. Self is the greatest of earthly kings. Put yourself in -one scale, and pile up all the world in the other, and you will weigh -it down.' He was right. What comes so close home to us as our own -troubles and sorrows?" - -"Nothing," said Aaron, rather sadly; "they outweigh all the rest. We -are human, and being human, fallible. Can you imagine an instance, Mr. -Moss, where love may lead to crime?" - -"I can, and what is more, I would undertake to justify it. Who is this -little girl?" - -The diversion in the conversation was caused by Prissy, who had run to -Aaron, and was plucking at his coat. - -"A good girl who attends to our Sabbath lights." - -"'Ow's missis, please, sir?" inquired Prissy, anxiously. - -"Much better this morning, thank you." - -"And the babby, sir?" - -"Also better and stronger, Prissy." Prissy jumped up and down in -delight. "I was coming to see you. Do you think your aunt would let -you come to us as a regular servant, to live, and eat, and sleep in -the house?" - -This vision of happiness almost took Prissy's breath away; but she -managed to reply, "If yer'd make it worth 'er while, she would, Mr. -Cohen. She's allus telling me I'm taking the bread out of 'er mouth, -and ain't worth my salt. Oh, Mr. Cohen, _will_ yer take me, _will_ -yer? I don't care where I sleep, I don't care wot yer give me to eat, -I'll work for yer day and night, I will! Aunty makes my life a misery, -she does, and I've lost Wictoria Rejiner, sir. She's got another nuss, -and I ain't got nobody to care for now. Aunty sed this morning I was a -reg'lar pest, and she wished she could sell me at so much a pound." - -"You don't weigh a great deal," said Aaron, gazing at Prissy in pity; -and then, with a sad touch of his old humour, "How much a pound do you -think she would take?" - -"Come and arks 'er, Mr. Cohen, come and arks er," cried Prissy, -running before Aaron, and looking back imploringly at him. - -He and Mr. Moss followed the girl into the presence of Prissy's aunt, -and, although he did not buy Prissy by the pound weight, he made a -bargain with the woman, and by the outlay of five shillings secured -the girl's permanent services, it being understood that she was not to -take her niece away without Prissy's consent. As they walked back to -Aaron's house he spoke to Prissy about wages; but the girl, who felt -as if heaven's gates had opened for her to enter, interrupted him by -saying,-- - -"Don't talk about wages, sir, please don't. I don't want no wages. -Give me a frock and a bone, and I'll work the skin off my fingers for -yer, I will!" - -Extravagant as were her professions, never was a poor girl more in -earnest than Prissy. Blithe and happy she set to work, and never did -valiant soldier polish up his arms with keener zest than did Prissy -her pots and pans. The kitchen was her battleground, and she surveyed -it with the air of a conqueror. There was joy in Rachel's heart in the -room above, there was joy in Prissy's heart in the room below. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - THE CURTAIN FALLS AWHILE. - - -Mr. Moss and Aaron spent the greater part of the day together, -awaiting the arrival of Mr. Gordon's legal representative. The doctor -who attended Rachel called only once, and gave a good report of her -condition. - -"The crisis is over," he said to Aaron. "Your wife and child will -live. In a few days Mrs. Cohen will be strong enough to be removed, -and I advise you to take her without delay to the South of France, -where before spring her health will be completely re-established." - -It was not until the doctor had departed that the question presented -itself to Aaron whether he had any right to the fifty pounds he -had received from Mr. Moss. He was clear as to the second sum of -twenty-five pounds--that must be returned. He wished Mr. Moss to take -it back; but that gentleman would have nothing to do with it, and as -to Aaron's right to retain the fifty pounds he entertained no doubt. - -"It is undisputably yours," he said. "It was handed to me by Mr. -Gordon himself for a specific purpose, and I look upon it as a -retaining fee. No lawyer returns such a fee when the case breaks -down--trust them for that. Understand, please, Cohen, that I am no -longer acting in the affair: it rests now between you and the -lawyers." - -Late in the afternoon Mr. Moss went to the railway station to meet the -lawyer, and the two proceeded together to the house where the dead -child lay. Arrangements for the funeral were made, and then Mr. Moss -conducted the lawyer, whose name was Chesterman, to Aaron's house. - -"Mr. Chesterman has something to say to you, Cohen," he said. "I will -leave you together." He took Aaron aside. "It is something of great -importance--a wonderful stroke of fortune. Don't throw it away; it -will be the making of you; and remember Rachel." - -"Mr. Moss," commenced Mr. Chesterman, when he and Aaron were alone, -"has related to me all that has occurred. In a general sense the death -of the child is to be regretted, as would be the death of any person, -old or young; but there are peculiar circumstances in this case which -render this visitation of God a relief to certain parties. It removes -all difficulties from the future, and there is now no likelihood of -our client's plans being hampered or interfered with. You are aware -that he is a gentleman of fortune?" - -"I have been so informed." - -"You may not be aware, however, that he is a gentleman of very decided -views, and that he is not to be turned from any resolution he may have -formed. We lawyers have to deal with clients of different -temperaments, and when a case is submitted to us by a strong-minded -gentleman, we may advise, but, if we find our client determined, we do -not waste time in arguing. I understand from Mr. Moss that you have -some scruples with respect to the money you have received from him." - -"I wish to know whether I may consider the first sum of fifty pounds -mine; I have my doubts about it. As to the second sum of twenty-five -pounds, paid in advance for the rearing of the child, I have no doubts -whatever." - -"We have nothing to do with either of those sums; they did not come -from us, but from our client to Mr. Moss, and from Mr. Moss to you. -Without being consulted professionally, I agree with Mr. Moss that the -fifty pounds is yours. I offer no opinion upon the second sum." - -"If you will give me your client's address, I will communicate with -him." - -"We cannot disclose it to you. It is confided to us professionally, -and our instructions are to keep it secret." - -"You can give him my name and address?" - -"No. His stipulation is that it is not to be made known to him. If at -any time he asks us voluntarily for it, that is another matter, and I -will make a note of it. The special purpose of my visit is to complete -and carry out to the last letter our client's instructions. The -conditions to which he bound himself were very liberal. With a -generous desire for the child's welfare, in the event of her living -and marrying, he placed in our hands the sum of five hundred pounds as -a marriage dowry, to be paid over to her on her wedding-day." - -"A noble-minded gentleman," said Aaron. - -Mr. Chesterman smiled, and continued,-- - -"In the event of the child's death this five hundred pounds was to be -paid over to the party or parties who undertook the charge of her. The -child is dead; the five hundred pounds is to be paid over to you." - -"But, sir," said Aaron, in astonishment, "do you not understand that I -cannot accept this money?" - -"It is not for us to consider any scruples you may have; it is for us -to carry out our instructions. It does not come within our province to -argue with you. I have brought the cheque with me, and all I have to -do is to hand it over to you, and to take your receipt for it. Mr. -Moss hinted to me that you might raise objections; my reply was, -'Nonsense.' The money belongs to you by legal and moral right, and I -decline to listen to objections. If it is any satisfaction to you, I -may tell you that our client can well afford to pay it, and that by -its early payment he is a considerable gainer, for he is no longer -under the obligation to pay a hundred a year for the child's -maintenance. Here is the receipt, legally drawn out; oblige me by -signing it." - -It was in vain for Aaron to protest; the lawyer insisted, and at -length, fearing the consequences of a decided refusal, Aaron put his -name to the paper. - -"Our business being concluded," said Mr. Chesterman, rising, "I have -the pleasure of wishing you good-day. Should in the future any -necessity for the statement arise, I shall not hesitate to declare -that the child was placed in the care of an honourable gentleman, who -would have faithfully performed his duty towards her." - -"God forgive me," said Aaron, when his visitor was gone, "for the sin -I have committed! God help me to atone for it!" - -But he would have been less than human had he not felt grateful that -the means were placed in his hands to restore his beloved wife to -health and strength. Before a week had passed he and Rachel and the -child, accompanied by Prissy, were travelling to a milder clime. - - - - - - BOOK THE FOURTH. - - _HONOUR AND PROGRESS_. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - AFTER MANY YEARS. - - -A man upon whose face all that is noble and steadfast seems to have -set its seal, to give the world assurance that here was one who, had -his lot been so cast, would have ruled over men with justice, truth, -and honour. He is of a goodly height, and his features are large and -clearly defined. A sensitive, resolute mouth; calm, well-proportioned -lips, which close without restraint and are eloquent even when the -tongue is silent; a nose gently arched, with curved indented nostrils; -a massive forehead, almost oval at the top, and with projecting lower -arches, the eyebrows near to the large brown eyes; the chin and cheeks -clothed in a handsome beard, in which grey hairs are making themselves -manifest. Powerful, benignant, and self-possessed as is his -appearance, there is an underlying sadness in his eyes which could be -variously construed--as born of a large experience of human ways and -of the errors into which mortals are liable to fall, or, maybe, of an -ever-abiding remembrance of one moment in his own life when he also -was tempted and fell. But no such thought as the latter ever entered -the minds of those who knew him personally and those who judged him by -the repute he bore, which could only have been earned by a man who -walked unflinchingly and unerringly in the straight path and was just -and merciful to all who came in contact with him. There were instances -when mercy so predominated that persons who had wronged him were -allowed to go free, and when a helping hand was held out to men who -had sinned against him. This is Aaron Cohen, now close upon his -fiftieth year. - -A woman whose tranquil eyes never see the light of day, but in which, -nevertheless, there is no sign of repining or regret. Purity and -sweetness dwell in her face, and as she stands motionless in a -listening attitude, her white hand resting on the table, no more -exquisite representation of peace and universal love and sympathy -could be found in living form or marble statue. She is fair almost to -whiteness, and although her figure is slight and there is no colour in -her cheeks, she is in good health, only that sometimes during the day -she closes her eyes and sleeps in her armchair for a few minutes. In -those intervals of unconsciousness, and when she seeks her couch, she -sees fairer pictures, perhaps, than if the wonders of the visible -world were an open book to her. Her dreams are inspired by a soul of -goodness, and her husband's heart, as he gazes upon her in her -unconscious hours, is always stirred to prayer and thankfulness that -she is by his side to bless his days. Not only in the house is her -influence felt. She is indefatigable in her efforts to seek out -deserving cases of distress and relieve them; and she does not confine -her charity to those of her faith. In this regard Jew and Christian -are alike to her, and not a week passes that she does not plant in -some poor home a seed which grows into a flower to gladden and cheer -the hearts of the unfortunate and suffering. Grateful eyes follow her -movements, and a blessing is shed upon her as she departs. A -ministering angel is she, whose words are balm, whose presence brings -sweet life into dark spaces. So might an invisible herald of the Lord -walk the earth, healing the sick, lifting up the fallen, laying his -hand upon the wounded breast, and whispering to all, "Be comforted. -God has heard your prayers, and has sent me to relieve you." This is -Rachel Cohen, Aaron's wife, in her forty-fourth year. - -A younger woman, in her springtime, with life's fairest pages spread -before her. Darker than Rachel is she, with darker hair and eyes and -complexion, slim, graceful, and beautiful. It is impossible that she -should not have felt the influence of the home in which she has been -reared, and that she should not be the better for it, for it is a home -in which the domestic affections unceasingly display themselves in -their tenderest aspect, in which the purest and most ennobling lessons -of life are inculcated by precept and practice; but a profound student -of human nature, whose keen insight would enable him to plumb the -depths of passion, to detect what lay beneath the surface, to trace -the probable course of the psychological inheritance which all parents -transmit to their children, would have come to the conclusion that in -this fair young creature were instincts and promptings which were -likely one day to give forth a discordant note in this abode of peace -and love, and to break into rebellion. There is no outward indication -of such possible rebellion. To the friends and acquaintances of the -household she is a lovely and gracious Jewish maiden, who shall in -time become a mother in Judah. This is Ruth Cohen, in the eyes of all -the world the daughter of Aaron and Rachel. - -A young man, Ruth's junior by a year, with his father's strength of -character and his mother's sweetness of disposition. He is as yet too -young for the full development of this rare combination of qualities, -the outcome of which is to be made manifest in the future, but he is -not too young to win love and respect. His love for his parents is -ardent, his faith in them indestructible. To him his mother is a -saint, his father a man without blemish. Were he asked, to express his -most earnest wishes, he would have answered, "When I am my father's -age may I be honoured as he is: when I marry may my wife be as my -mother is." This is Joseph Cohen, the one other child of Aaron and -Rachel. - -A tall, ungainly woman of thirty, working like a willing slave from -morning to night, taking pride and pleasure in the home, and -metaphorically prostrating herself before every one who lives beneath -its roof. Esteemed and valued by her master and mistress, for whom she -is ready to sacrifice herself and to undergo any privation; especially -watchful of her mistress, and tender towards her; jealous of the good -name of those whom she serves with devotion. Of Aaron Cohen she stands -somewhat in awe, he is so far above her in wisdom. She does not -trouble herself about religious matters; questions of theology come -not within her domain, her waking hours being entirely filled and -occupied with the performance of her domestic duties. She listens -devoutly to the chanting of Hebrew prayers, not one word of which does -she understand, and is none the worse for them. Her master and -mistress are the representatives of a race for which through them she -entertains the profoundest respect; it is more than likely, if the -choice had been hers and if she had deemed herself worthy of the -distinction, that she would have elected to be born in the Jewish -faith. She carries her allegiance even to the extent of fasting with -the household on the Day of Atonement, and of not allowing bread to -pass her lips during the Passover week. This is Prissy, the ever true, -the ever faithful. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - THE FOUNDATION OF AARON'S FORTUNE. - - -Eventful indeed to Aaron Cohen had been the twenty years since he left -Gosport. In the South of France, where they remained for a much longer -time than he intended, Rachel was restored to health, and Aaron had -the joy of seeing her move happily about the house and garden, and of -hearing her sing to her babe the songs and lullabies which, from a -mother's lips, are so fraught with melodious and tender meaning. It -almost seemed as if she had inward cause for thankfulness that -blindness had fallen upon her, for Aaron had never known her to be so -blithe and light-hearted as during those weeks of returning health. -Prissy was invaluable to them, and proved to be a veritable treasure. -The short time it took her to learn her duties, the swiftness and -neatness with which they were performed, the delight she took in the -babe, who soon replaced Victoria Regina in her affections, and the -care and skill with which she guided her mistress's movements, amazed -Aaron. He had divined from the first that she was a shrewd, clever -girl, and he had the satisfaction of discovering that she was much -cleverer than he would have ventured to give her credit for. She was -tidier in her dress, too, and never presented herself unless she was -clean and neat. She became, in a sense, her mistress's teacher, and -Rachel was so apt a pupil that Aaron's apprehensions that she would -meet with an accident if she moved too freely about were soon -dispelled. - -"Is it not wonderful, love?" she said. "I think I must have eyes at -the tips of my fingers. But it is Prissy I have to thank for it." - -She repaid the girl, be sure. Gradually Prissy's mode of expressing -herself underwent improvement; she did not use so many negatives, she -dropped fewer h's, she learned to distinguish between g's and k's; and -Aaron himself laid the first stone in her education by teaching her -the a b c. One thing Prissy would not learn; she obstinately refused -to have anything to do with the French language. English was good -enough for her, she declared, and to the English tongue she nailed her -colours. - -Fond as she was of babies, she would not countenance French babies, -and said it was a shame to dress them so. "I'm a troo bloo, sir," she -said to Aaron; "please don't force me." And with a hearty laugh he -desisted. - -He himself spoke French fluently, and to this may be ascribed the -first change in his fortunes. Easy in his mind respecting Rachel, easy -respecting money, he found himself at leisure to look about him and -observe. He made friends, and among them a poor French engineer of -great skill. In conversation one day this engineer mentioned that -tenders were invited for the construction of a local bridge. It was -not a very important matter; the lake it was to span was of no great -dimensions, and the bridge required was by no means formidable. - -"There are only two contractors who will tender for it," said the -engineer, "and they play into each other's hands. They will settle -privately the amount of their separate tenders, and the lowest will -obtain the contract. They will divide the profits between them. If I -had a little money to commence with I would tender for the work, and -my tender would be at least ten thousand francs below theirs. Then it -would be I who would construct the bridge, and public money would be -saved." - -"What would be your profit?" asked Aaron. - -"Twenty thousand francs," was the reply; "perhaps more." - -"And the amount of your tender?" - -"Eighty thousand francs. I have the plans and specifications, and -every detail of expense for material and labour in my house. Will you -come and look over them?" - -Aaron examined them, and submitting them to the test of inquiry -as to the cost of labour and material, found them to be correct. A -simple-minded man might have been taken in by a schemer who had -prepared complicated figures for the purpose of trading with another -person's money, and standing the chance of winning if the venture -resulted in a profit, and of losing nothing if it resulted in a loss; -but Aaron was not simple-minded, the poor engineer was not a schemer, -and the figures were honestly set down. - -"It would not need a great amount of money," said the engineer. "If a -certain sum were deposited in the bank, a further sum could be raised -by depositing the contract as security; and, moreover, as the work -proceeds, specified payments will be made by the local authorities." - -"How much would be required to commence operations, and to make -everything safe?" - -"Ten thousand francs." - -Roughly, that was four hundred pounds. The five hundred pounds he had -received from the lawyers was as yet untouched, for they lived very -economically and were in a part of the world where thrift was part of -the people's education. Aaron believed the project to be safe. - -"If I advanced it," he asked, "what proposition do you make?" - -"We would make it a partnership affair," replied the poor engineer, -eagerly. - -Upon that understanding the bridge was tendered for, and the tender -accepted. In four months the work was executed and passed by the -inspectors; the contractors received the balance due to them, and a -division of the profits was made. After paying all his expenses Aaron -was the richer by three hundred pounds. He gave fifty pounds to the -poor, which raised him in the estimation of the people among whom he -was temporarily sojourning. He had not been idle during the four -months occupied by the building of the bridge; under the guidance of -his partner he had superintended the workmen and undertaken the -correspondence and management of the accounts; and new as these duties -were to him he had shown great intelligence and aptitude. - -"We met on a fortunate day," said the engineer. - -At about this time a new engineering project presented itself. It was -on a larger scale than the first, and the two men, emboldened by -success, tendered for it. Again did fortune favour them; everybody, -with the exception of rival contractors, was on their side. In the -carrying out of their first contract there had not been a hitch; they -had paid their workmen better wages, they had behaved honestly and -liberally all round, and they had already achieved a reputation for -liberal dealing with the working man. Moreover, people were talking of -Rachel's kindness and of Aaron's benevolence. Hats were lifted to -them, women and children left flowers at their door; rich was the -harvest they gathered for their charity. - -When it was known that they had obtained another contract, the best -workmen came to them for employment, and they learned what all -employers of labour may learn, that it is wise policy to pay -generously for bone and muscle. The hateful political economy of -Ricardo, which trades upon the necessities of the poor, and would -grind labour down to starvation pittance, could never find lodgment in -the mind of such a man as Aaron Cohen. The new venture was entirely -successful, and being of greater magnitude than the first, the profits -were larger. Aaron was the possessor of two thousand pounds. He gave -two hundred pounds to the poor. He did more than this. The doctor who -had attended Rachel in Gosport had declined to accept a fee, and Aaron -now wrote him a grateful letter, enclosing in it a draft for five -hundred pounds, which he asked the doctor to distribute among the -local charities. This five hundred pounds he regarded as a return of -the sum he had received from the London lawyers. That the receipt of -this money afforded gratification to the doctor was evidenced by his -reply. "Every one here," he said, "has kind words for you and your -estimable wife, and the general feeling is that if you had continued -to reside in Gosport it would have been a source of pleasure to all of -us. When I speak of your good fortune all the townsfolk say, 'We are -glad to hear it.'" Thus did good spring out of evil. - -Aaron felt that his foot was on the ladder. He entered into a regular -partnership with his friend the engineer, and they executed many -public works and never had a failure. The justness of their trading, -their consideration for the toilers who were helping to build up a -fortune for them, the honest wages they paid, earned for them an -exceptional reputation for rectitude and fair dealing. In these -matters and in this direction Aaron was the guiding spirit. He left to -his partner the technical working out of their operations, and took -upon himself the control of wages and finance. Occasionally there were -arguments between him and his partner, the latter hinting perhaps that -there was a cheaper market, and that money could be saved by employing -middlemen who offered to supply labour and material at prices that -were not equitable from the point of view of the toilers and -producers. Aaron would not entertain propositions of this kind. "We -are doing well," he said, "we are making money, we are harvesting. Be -satisfied." His partner gave way. Aaron's character was too strong for -resistance. "Clean and comfortable homes," said Aaron, "a good -education for their children, a modest enjoyment of the world's -pleasures--these are the labourers' due." Hearing of this some large -employers called him quixotic, and said he was ruining trade; but he -pursued the just and even tenor of his way, satisfied that he was a -saviour and not a spoiler. Upon the conclusion of each transaction, -when the accounts were balanced, he devoted a portion of his profits -to benevolent purposes, and he became renowned as a public benefactor. -The thanks that were showered upon him did not please him, but tended -rather to humiliate and humble him; he would not listen to expressions -of gratitude; and it will be presently seen that when he returned to -England he took steps to avoid the publicity which was distasteful to -him. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - THE FEAST OF PASSOVER. - - -A point of friendly contention between Aaron Cohen and the engineer -was the observance of the Sabbath day. From sunset on Friday till -sunset on Saturday Aaron would do no work and attend to no business. -He paid the workmen their wages on Friday, and made up the accounts on -that day. They hailed the new arrangement with satisfaction, but the -engineer was rather fretful over this departure from the usual custom. - -"What is your objection?" asked Aaron. - -"It must confuse affairs," replied the engineer. - -"Are not the accounts faithfully kept," said Aaron, "and does not the -work go on regularly?" - -"Oh, I am not complaining," said the engineer, "only----" - -"Only what?" said Aaron, with a smile. - -The engineer could not explain; he was a skilful engineer, but a weak -controversialist. The only answer he could make was,-- - -"You are living in a Christian land, among Christians." - -"I am none the less a Jew. All over the world we live in Christian -lands, among Christians; we are a nation without a country. You -observe your Sunday Sabbath as a day of rest." - -"Certainly I do." - -"Allow me, also, to observe my Sabbath on the day appointed by my -faith." - -"What difference can it make to you," persisted the engineer, -"Saturday or Sunday?" - -"If that is your view," said Aaron, his eyes twinkling with amusement, -"let us both keep our Sabbath on the Saturday." - -Aaron conducted the argument with such perfect good temper that the -engineer could not help laughing at the rebuff, and the subject was -allowed to drop. Nor was it revived on the subsequent occasions of -the Jewish holydays, which were zealously observed by Aaron and his -wife. They were both orthodox Jews, and nothing could tempt them to -neglect their religious obligations; neither of them had ever tasted -shell-fish or touched fire on the Sabbath. The festival of the New -Year in the autumn, with its penitential Day of Atonement and its -joyful Feast of Tabernacles, the Feast of Lights (Chanukah) in the -winter, the Festivals of Purim and Passover in the spring, the Feast -of Pentecost in the early summer--not one of these days of memorial -was disregarded. The m'zuzah was fastened on the doorposts, and -regularly every morning did Aaron put on his garment of fringes and -phylacteries and say his morning prayers. Thus was he ever in -communion with his Maker. - -He experienced at first great difficulty in conforming to Jewish -precepts. There was no synagogue in the village, and no killer of -meat, according to the formula prescribed by the Mosaic law. For -several days his family lived upon fish and vegetables and eggs; then -he succeeded in arranging with a Jewish butcher in a town some fifty -miles distant for a regular supply of meat and poultry. The only -co-religionist with whom he came into close personal association was a -man of the name of Levi, who had no such scruples as he in regard to -food. This man was married, and had three sons, the eldest of whom was -approaching his thirteenth year, the age at which all Jewish lads -should be confirmed. In conversation with M. Levi Aaron learned that -he had no intention of carrying out the ceremony of confirmation. -Yearning to bring the stray sheep back into the fold, Aaron invited M. -Levi and his family to celebrate the Passover with him, and there upon -the table the Levis saw the white napkins with the special Passover -cakes between the folds, the shankbone of a shoulder of lamb, the -roasted egg, the lettuce, the chevril and parsley, the cup of salt and -water, the savoury balls of almond, apple, and spice, and the raisin -wine--all of which are symbols of the Passover, the most joyous of the -Jewish festivals. In this year the first night of the holydays fell -upon the Sabbath, and the apartment presented a beautiful appearance, -with the lighted candles, the bright glass, and the spotless purity of -the linen. The house had been cleaned from top to bottom, all leaven -had been removed, and every utensil and article that was used for the -cooking and partaking of food was new. M. Levi's eyes glistened as he -entered the apartment and looked around; his wife's also, for she had -been brought up in an orthodox Jewish home. Old memories were revived, -and as they sat down at the table it was to them as if they had -suddenly gone back to the days of their youth. Love and self-reproach -shone in their faces as they gazed upon their children, to whom this -picture of home happiness was a delightful revelation. "Blessed art -Thou, O Lord, our God!" said Aaron, in the ancient tongue, after the -filling of the first glasses of wine. "King of the universe, who -createst the fruit of the vine. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God, -King of the universe, who hath chosen us from among all people, and -exalted us above all languages, and sanctified us with His -commandments; and with love hast Thou given us, O Lord, our God, -Sabbaths for rest, and solemn days for joy, festivals and seasons of -gladness, this day of rest, and this day of the feast of unleavened -cakes, the season of our freedom; a holy convocation in love, a -memorial of the departure from Egypt. For Thou hast chosen us and -sanctified us above all people; and Thy holy Sabbaths and festivals -hast Thou caused us to inherit with love and favour, joy and gladness. -Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who sanctifiest the Sabbath, and Israel, and -the seasons." After this prayer the first glass of wine was drank, and -the children smacked their lips. Rachel's blindness did not prevent -her from superintending the kitchen, and under her direction -everything was prepared for the table almost as skilfully and -tastefully as if her own hands had done the work. Her raisin wine was -perfect, and Aaron smacked his lips as well as the children: the -finest vintage of champagne would not have been so palatable to him. -Rachel's face was turned towards him as he raised the glass to his -lips; she was anxious for his approval of the wine, which he had -always praised extravagantly, and when she heard him smack his lips -she was satisfied. Aaron proceeded with the ceremonies and prayers; he -had purchased books of the "Hagadah," the Hebrew on the right-hand, -and a translation in French on the left-hand pages, so that his -guests, young and old, could understand what was being said and done. -In silence they laved their hands, chevril was dipped into salt water -and distributed around, and the middle cake in the napkins broken. -Then Aaron held aloft the dish containing the roasted egg and the -shankbone, and intoned, "This is the bread of affliction which our -ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all that are hungry enter and -eat; let all that are in want come hither and observe the Passover." -The prayers were not uttered in a sing-song drawl; there was a joyous -note in the chanting, which proclaimed that the hearts of the -worshippers were glad. They heard from Aaron's lips what was said by -the wise son, the wicked son, and the simple son; how a handful of the -children of Israel went into Egypt, and how they increased and -multiplied till they became a mighty nation; how they were oppressed -by the Egyptians, and forced to build stone cities for Pharaoh, -Pithom, and Raamses; how they prayed unto the Eternal, and He -remembered His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and punished -the oppressors with the ten plagues; how, under Divine protection, -Israel went forth from Egypt, and walked through the Red Sea. "The sea -beheld, and fled; Jordan was driven backward. The mountains skipped -like rams, the hills like lambkins. What ailed thee, O sea, that thou -fledst--thou, Jordan, that thou wast driven backward--ye mountains, -that ye skipped like rams--ye hills, like lambkins? Tremble, O earth! -in the presence of the God of Jacob, who turned the rock into a pool -of water, the flinty rock into a fountain of water." The first portion -of the service ended, the books were laid aside, and the table spread -for supper. While the preparations for the meal were being made by -Prissy, who wore a new frock for the holydays and was as clean as a -new pin, an animated conversation went on. Aaron was in the merriest -of moods, and his witty sayings and jokes kept the company in a ripple -of laughter. It is a special feature in the home worship of the Jew -that it promotes good fellowship, breeds good feeling, and draws -closer the domestic ties which so strongly distinguish the race. -Innocent jest is encouraged, it is really as if it were a duty that -every one shall be in a holiday humour. The subjects of conversation -are of a cheerful nature, scandal is avoided, the tenderer feelings -are brought into play. Scrupulous attention is paid to cleanliness, -young and old attire themselves in their best. When we appear before -the Sovereign we make ourselves resplendent; so does the Jew when he -appears before the King of heaven and earth. On such occasions -slovenliness would be a crime. It is not only the outer man that is -attended to; the choicest special Jewish dishes are prepared; there is -no stint, plenty abounds, and friends are gladly welcomed, and invited -to partake; everything is done that can contribute to harmony and -content. Young people bill and coo, and their elders look on with -approving eyes. These are the golden hours of love's young dream. - -"It does my heart good," said Madame Levi, laughing heartily at one of -Aaron's jokes, "to be among our own people again." - -"Come often, come often," said Aaron Cohen. "You and yours will always -be welcome." - -The meal consisted of coffee, Passover cakes, fresh butter, and fried -and stewed fish. Nothing could be more tempting to the eye than the -large dish of stewed fish, with its thick yellow sauce of egg and -lemon, and nothing more tempting to the palate, unless it were the -fried fish, with its skin nicely browned, and cooked in such a way as -to bring out the full sweetness of the flesh. - -"We have the advantage of the Gentile," chuckled Aaron, who always -took fried fish for his first course, and stewed for his second. "We -know how to fry fish. It is strange that in all these thousands of -years he has not discovered the simple secret." - -"I have not tasted such stewed fish for I don't know how many years," -observed Madame Levi, who had just been assisted to a second helping. - -"Mrs. Cohen fries fish beautifully," said Aaron, "but her stewed fish -is a marvel." - -"That is the way my husband always speaks of me," said Rachel, with an -affectionate smile. "He does not believe I have a fault." - -"A woman who cooks fish as she does," said Aaron, oracularly, "cannot -have a fault; she is a perfect woman. She is a glory and an honour to -her sex. Again I assert, her stewed fish is a marvel." - -"He forgets," said Rachel sweetly, to her guests, "that I have to -trust others." - -"My dear," persisted Aaron, "you stand by and direct. A victorious -general does not rush into the battle; he stands aside, and gives his -orders. With my own eyes I saw you squeeze the lemons; with my own -eyes I saw you mix the batter; each slice of fish passed through your -hands before it was put into the pan and saucepan. You know, Madame -Levi, how important it is that the fish should be properly dried -before it goes through the ordeal of fire." - -"You bring it to my mind," said Madame Levi, speaking in a pensive -tone; "my mother could fry and stew fish beautifully." - -"But not like Rachel," rejoined Aaron. "I will give way on every other -point, but not on this. If I were a plaice or a halibut I should be -proud to be treated so; it would be a worthy ending of me, and I -should bless the hand that cut me up. I should feel that I had not -lived in vain. There is a spiritual touch," he continued, waiting -until the laughter had subsided, "in these things. Half a lemon -more or less makes all the difference in stewed fish; an egg more or -less, the consistency of the batter, and the quality of the oil, make -all the difference when you are frying. In England the poor and -middle-class Christians are shocking cooks; the moment they touch it -half the goodness of the food is gone. It is a melancholy fact, and it -is the cause of innumerable domestic grievances. It drives away -cheerfulness, it breeds sulks and bad temper, and yet the women will -not learn--no, they will not learn. When you see a well-ordered -household and a peaceful home, the children happy and contented, the -husband and wife affectionate to each other, you know at once that the -mistress is a good cook. You laugh; but it is really a very serious -matter. It goes straight to the root of things." - -Grace was said after supper, and the reading of the Passover prayers -continued. Aaron had a fine baritone voice, and he did full justice to -the ancient psalmody, which has been transmitted through long ages, -from generation to generation. "Were our mouths filled with sacred -song as the sea is with water, our tongue shouting loudly as its -roaring billows, and our lips extended with praise like the widely -spread firmament, and our eyes sparkling like the sun and the moon, -and our hands extended like the eagle's wings in the skies, and our -feet swift as the hind's, we should yet be deficient to render -sufficient thanks unto Thee, O Lord our God, and the God of our -fathers, or to bless Thy name for even one of the innumerable benefits -which Thou hast conferred upon us and our ancestors." Then followed -"It was at midnight." "When the blaspheming Sennacherib purposed to -assail Thine habitation, Thou didst frustrate him through the dread -carcases of his host in the night. Bel and its image were hurled down -in the darkness of the night. To Daniel, the much beloved man, was -the mysterious vision revealed in the night.... Thou wilt tread the -wine-press for them who anxiously ask, Watchman, what of the night? -Let the Eternal, the Watchman of Israel, cry out and say, The morning -hath come as well as the night." Nearly at the end of the service -there was a merry chant, "Oh, may He who is most mighty soon rebuild -His house; speedily, speedily, soon, in our days." And the prayers -ended with the curious poem, "One only kid, one only kid," supposed to -be a parable illustrating the written and unwritten history of the -Jewish race. - -So conducive of cheerfulness and amiability had been the dedication of -the Passover that smiles were on every lip and good feeling in every -eye; amiability and good nature shone on their countenances. An hour -was devoted to a chat upon general subjects, and after accepting an -invitation to come again upon the following night, the Levis took -their departure. On their way home they spoke freely of the -hospitality and geniality of their host, of the sweet disposition of -Rachel, with whom they had all fallen in love, of the order and -cleanliness of the house, of the salutary effects of an evening so -spent. Never had they been so deeply impressed with the beauty of the -religion into which they had been born, the obligations of which they -had thrust aside and neglected, principally, as M. Levi would have -advanced, on the score of convenience. Had Aaron Cohen argued with M. -Levi upon this neglect it is likely he would have contributed to the -defeat of the object he had in view; but he was far too astute to -argue with a man who, being in the wrong, would have obstinately -defended himself when thus attacked. He knew the value of the lesson -the Levis had received, and he was content to wait for the result. He -would have been greatly gratified had he heard the whispered words -addressed to her husband by Madame Levi. - -"Cannot we do the same? Cannot we live as they do?" - -M. Levi, deep in thought, did not answer the question, but it was -nevertheless treasured in his memory. Treasured also in his memory -were some words that passed between his eldest son and his wife. - -"Mother, I am a Jew?" - -"Yes, my dear." - -"I am glad." - -"Why, my child?" - -"Because M. Cohen is a Jew. I want to be like him." - -M. Levi looked at his son, a handsome lad, whose face was flushed with -the pleasures of the most memorable evening in his young life. To -deprive him of his confirmation would be robbing him of God's -heritage. The father was at heart a Jew, but, like many of his -brethren residing in Christian communities, had found it easier to -neglect his religion than to conform to its precepts. Putting it -another way, he thought it would be to his worldly disadvantage. He -had made his will, and therein was written his desire to be "buried -among his people"--that controlling wish which, in their last moments, -animates so many Jews who through all their days have lived as -Christians. "Let me be buried among my people," they groan; "let me be -buried among my people!" That is their expiation, that is their charm -for salvation, for though all their years have been passed in -attending to their worldly pleasures and temporal interests, they -believe in a future life. These men have been guided by no motives of -sincerity, by no conscientious inquiry as to how far the tenets of an -ancient creed--the principal parts of which were formulated while the -race was in tribulation--are necessary and obligatory in the present -age; they are palterers and cowards, and grossly deceive themselves if -they believe that burial in Jewish ground will atone for their -backsliding. M. Levi was not a coward, and now that his error was -brought home to him he was strongly moved to take up the broken -threads of a faith which, in its purity, offers so much of Divine -consolation. He himself broached the subject to Aaron, and his resolve -was strengthened by the subsequent conversations between them. - -"That man is to be honoured, not despised," said Aaron, "who changes -his opinions through conviction. He may be mistaken, but he is -sincere, and sincerity is the test of faith. You believe in God, you -acknowledge His works, you live in the hope of redemption. In religion -you must be something or nothing. You deny that you are a Christian. -What, then, are you? A Jew. What race can boast of a heritage so -glorious? We have yet to work out our future. Take your place in the -ranks--ranks more illustrious than that which any general has ever led -to victory--be once more a soldier of God." - -These words fired M. Levi. The following Saturday his place of -business was closed; from a box in which it may be said they were -hidden, he took out his garment of fringes, his prayer-books, his -phylacteries, and worshipped as of yore. Two vacancies occurring in -his business, he filled them up with Jews; Aaron also induced a few -Jews to settle there, and in a short time they could reckon upon ten -adults, the established number necessary for public worship. In the -rear of his house Aaron built a large room, which was used as a -synagogue, and there M. Levi's eldest son was confirmed. In the -autumn, when the Feast of Tabernacles was celebrated, the little band -of Jews found a booth erected in Aaron's garden; there was a roof of -vines through which they saw the light of heaven. It was beautified -with flowers, and numbers of persons came to see this pretty -remembrance of a time when the Children of Israel dwelt in tents in -the wilderness. The prayers in the synagogue over, the worshippers -assembled in the booth, and ate and drank with Aaron and his family. -Aaron had provided palms, citrons, myrtle, and willows for his -co-religionists, and in an address he gave in the course of the -service he told them how the citron was a symbol of innocent -childhood, the myrtle a symbol of youth and of the purity that dwells -on the brow of the bride and bridegroom, the firm and stately palm a -symbol of upright manhood, and the drooping willow a symbol of old -age. His discourses had always in them something new and attractive -which had a special bearing upon the ancient faith in which he took so -much pride. - -"We have you to thank for our happiness," said Madame Levi to him. - -"It is a good work done, my love," said Aaron to his wife, rubbing his -hands with satisfaction; "a good work done." - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - - RACHEL'S LIFE IN THE NEW LAND. - - -Meanwhile Rachel throve. She walked with an elastic spring in her -feet, as though in response to nature's greeting, and joy and -happiness accompanied her everywhere. She was profoundly and devoutly -grateful for her husband's better fortune, and daily rendered up -thanks for it to the Giver of all good. She took pleasure in -everything; blind as she was, she enjoyed nature's gifts to the full. -In winter it was extraordinary to hear her describe the aspect of -woods and fields in their white feathery mantle; with deep-drawn -breath she inhaled the fresh cold air, and a glory rested on her face -as she trod the snow-clad paths. When she visited the poor on those -cold days Prissy accompanied her, carrying a well-filled basket on her -arm. Her sympathy with the sick and suffering was Divine, and in the -bleakest hours, when the sky was overcast and the light was hidden -from shivering mortals, she was the herald of sunshine. A priest met -her on one of these journeys, and gave her good-day. - -"Good-day, father," she said. - -"You know me!" he exclaimed, surprised; for though his priestly -calling was apparent from his attire, Rachel could not see it. - -"I heard your voice a fortnight ago," she replied, "in the cottage I -am going to now, and I never forget a voice. After you were gone the -poor woman told me you were her priest. I heard so much of you that -was beautiful." - -She put forth her hand; he hesitated a moment, then took it and -pressed it. - -"How sad, how sad, my daughter, that you are a Jewess!" - -"I am happily a Jewess, father." - -"Let me come and talk to you." - -"Yes, father, come and talk to me of your poor, to whom you are so -good. You do so much; I, being blind, can do so little. If you will -allow me----" She offered him some gold pieces, and he accepted them. - -"The Holy Mother have you in her keeping," he said; and went his way. - -Dogs and horses were her friends, and were instinctively conscious of -her presence. She scattered food for the birds, and they soon grew to -know her; some would even pick crumbs from her hand. "I do not think," -she said, "they would trust me so if I were not blind. They know I -cannot see, and cannot harm them." Aaron thought differently; not a -creature that drew breath could fail to trust and love this sweet -woman whom God had spared to him. - -Whom God had spared to him! When the thought thus expressed itself, he -raised his eyes to Heaven in supplication. - -She was the first to taste the sweet breath of spring. "Spring is -coming," she said; "the birds are trilling the joyful news. How busy -they are over their nests, the little chatterers, telling one another -the news as they work! In a little while we shall see the flowers." -She invariably spoke of things as if she could see them, as doubtless -she did with spiritual sight, investing them with a beauty which was -not of this world. It was her delight in summer to sit beneath the -branches of a favourite cherry tree, and to follow with her ears the -gambols of her children. For she had two now. A year after they left -Gosport another child was born to them, Joseph, to whom Aaron clave -with intense and passionate love. It was not that he was cold to Ruth, -that he was not unremitting in showing her affection, but in his love -for his son there was a finer quality, of which no one but himself was -conscious. He had prayed for another child, and his prayer was -answered. In the first flush of his happiness he was tempted to regard -this gift of God as a token that his sin was forgiven, but he soon -thrust this reflection aside, refusing to accept his own -interpretation of his sin as an atonement for its committal. It was -presumptuous in man to set lines and boundaries to the judgment of the -Eternal. It was to Rachel that this blessing was vouchsafed, for a -time might come when she would find in it a consolation for a -revelation that would embitter the sweet waters of life. Both the -children were pretty and engaging, and had winning and endearing ways, -which, in the mother's sightless eyes, were magnified a thousandfold. -In the following year a picture by a famous painter was exhibited in -the Paris _salon_; it was entitled "A Jewish Mother," and represented -a woman sitting beneath a cherry tree in flower, with two young -children gambolling on the turf at her feet. In the background were -two men, the curé of the village and a Jew, the latter being the -woman's husband, and looking like a modern Moses. The faces of the -men--one full-fleshed, with massive features and a grand beard, the -other spare and lean, with thin, clear-cut features and a close-shaven -face--formed a fine contrast. But although the points of this contrast -were brought out in masterly fashion, and although the rustic scene -was full of beauty, the supreme attraction of the picture lay in the -woman. In her sightless eyes dwelt the spirit of peace and purity, and -there was an angelic sweetness and resignation in her face as, with -head slightly inclined, she listened to the prattle of her children. -You could almost hear a sigh of happiness issue from her lips. The -woman's face photographed itself upon the minds of all who beheld it, -and it is not too much to say that it carried with it an influence for -good. Years afterwards, when their visit to the _salon_ was forgotten, -it made itself visible to their mind's eye, and always with beneficial -suggestion. So it is also with a pure poem or story; the impression it -leaves is an incentive to kindly act and tolerant judgment; it -softens, it ameliorates, it brings into play the higher attributes of -human nature, and in its practical results a benefit is conferred -equally upon the sufferer by the wayside and the Samaritan who pours -oil upon his wounds. The critics were unanimous in their praises of -the picture. "Who is the woman?" they asked, and no one could answer -the question except the painter, and he held his tongue. - -The secret was this. The famous painter, passing through the village -with the subject of his next great picture in his mind, saw Rachel, -and was spellbound by the purity and grace of her face and figure. -Travelling under an assumed name, in order that he should not be -disturbed by the trumpet blasts of fame--a proof (clear to few men) -that there is pleasure in obscurity--he cast aside the subject of the -great picture he had intended to paint, and determined to take his -inspiration from Rachel. He was assured from what he heard of her that -he was in the presence of a good woman, and he was deeply impressed by -her gentleness and grace. He did not find it difficult to obtain an -introduction to Aaron, who invited him home, where he made himself -welcome--no difficult matter, for Aaron was ever ready to appreciate -intellect. Many an evening did the painter pass with them, sometimes -in company with the curé, and many a friendly argument did they have. -The priest and the artist were surprised at the wide range of subjects -with which Aaron was familiar, and upon which he could converse with -fluent ease. Upon great themes he spoke with so much force and -clearness that even when they differed from him he generally succeeded -in weakening their convictions. It was not his early schooling that -made him so comprehensive and clear-sighted; a man's education depends -chiefly upon himself--teachers and masters play but a subsidiary part, -and all the coaching in the world will not make a weak intellect -strong. Superficial knowledge may be gained; but it is as transient as -a shadow, and in its effect is valueless in the business of life. -Aaron was not a classical scholar; he was something better--a -painstaking student, who extracted from his extensive reading the -essence of a subject, and took no heed of the husk and shell in which -it was embedded. Firm, perhaps to some extent dogmatic, in matters of -religion, he was gifted with a large-hearted toleration which led him -to look with a kindly eye upon men who did not think as he did; but -his final judgment was the judgment of a well-balanced mind. - -The artist did not ask Rachel and Aaron to be his models, but he made -innumerable sketches of them, and remained in the village long enough -to accumulate all the principal points and accessories for his -picture. Then he departed and painted his masterpiece elsewhere. Some -time afterwards he revisited the village with the intention of making -acknowledgment for the inspiration, but Aaron and his family had -departed, and the painter's secret was undivulged. - -As it was with Rachel in winter and spring, so was it in summer and -autumn. The flowers, the butterflies, the fragrant perfume of garden -and hedgerow, all appealed powerfully to her, and all were in kinship -with her. The village children would follow her in the gloaming, -singing their simple songs; brawlers, ashamed, would cease contending -when she came in sight; women would stand at their cottage doors and -gaze reverently upon her as she passed. Not a harsh thought was -harboured against her and hers; her gentle spirit was an incentive to -gentleness; she was a living, tender embodiment of peace on earth and -goodwill to all. The whisper of the corn in the autumn, when the -golden stalks bowed their heads to the passing breeze, conveyed a -Divine message to her soul; and, indeed, she said seriously to Aaron -that she sometimes fancied she heard voices in the air, and that they -brought a sense of ineffable pleasure to her heart. - -In the ordinary course of events the partnership came to an end. The -engineer was invited to Russia to undertake an important work for the -Government, and Aaron would not accompany him. - -"In the first place," he said, "I will not expose my wife and -children to the rigours of such a climate. In the second place, I will -not go because I am a Jew, and because, being one, I should meet with -no justice in that land. In the annals of history no greater infamy -can be found than the persecution to which my brethren are subjected -in that horrible country. In former ages, when the masses lived and -died ignorant and unlettered, like the beasts of the field, one can -understand how it was that the iron hand ruled and crushed common -human rights out of existence; but in these days, when light is -spreading all over the world except in such a den of hideous -corruption and monstrous tyranny as Russia, it is almost incredible -that these cruelties are allowed to be practised." - -"How would you put a stop to them?" asked the engineer. - -"I will suppose a case," Aaron answered. "You are the ruler of an -estate, upon which reside a number of families, who respect the laws -you make for them, who pay you tribute, and who lead reputable lives. -You know that these families are not all of one opinion upon religious -matters. Some pray in churches, some in synagogues, some do not pray -at all. You do not show favour to those with whose views you agree, -and you do not oppress those from whom you differ. You say to them, -'You are all my subjects; so long as you obey my laws, so long as you -conduct yourselves as good citizens, you shall live upon an equality, -and shall have my protection. Thought is free. Worship God according -to the dictates of your conscience, and be happy. For you the -synagogue, for me the church. I am content.' What is the consequence? -Between you and your people exists a bond of allegiance and affection. -They are true and loyal to you, and you really look upon them as -children of one family. In times of national distress, when a cry for -help is heard in any part of your estate, the bishop of your -Established Church, the Pope's cardinal, and the Chief Rabbi of the -Jews meet upon common ground, free one and all to act as priests of -humanity, and eager to alleviate the suffering which has arisen among -them. In your government councils all creeds are represented, and the -voice that is heard in decisions of national importance is truly the -national voice. You have your reward. Order is preserved, property is -safe, and you are respected everywhere. There are other estates in -your neighbourhood which more or less resemble yours, and in which men -of all creeds have equal rights. But there is one from which shrieks -of agony issue daily and nightly, terrible cries of suffering, -imploring appeals for help and mercy. They strike upon your ears; you -cannot help hearing them. The brutal ruler of this estate has for his -subjects a vast number of families, all of whom have been born on his -land, all of whom recognise him as their king, and are ready and -anxious to pay him respect, all of whom have a natural claim upon him -for protection, all of whom work for him and contribute to the -expenses of his household. To those whose religious views agree with -his own he shows favour and gives protection; those who are born in a -different faith he hates and tortures. From them proceed these shrieks -of agony, these cries of suffering, these appeals for help. You see -them torn and bleeding, their faces convulsed with anguish, their -hearts racked with woe; they have no other home, and there is no -escape for them. Every step they take is dogged and watched; whichever -way they turn the lash awaits them, and torture chambers to drive them -to the last stage of despair. And their shrieks and supplications -eternally pierce the air you breathe, while the oppressed ones stretch -forth their hands for mercy to the monster who makes their lives a -hell upon earth. What do they ask? That they should be allowed to live -in peace. But this reasonable and natural request infuriates the -tyrant. He flings them to the ground and grinds his iron heel into -their bleeding flesh; he spits in their faces, and orders his -torturers to draw the cords tighter around them. It is not for a day, -it is not for a week, it is not for a year, it is for ever. They die, -and leave children behind them, who are treated in the same fashion; -and for them, as it was with their fathers, there is no hope. No -attempt is made to hide these infamies, these cruelties, which would -disgrace the lowest order of beasts; they are perpetrated in the light -of day, and the monster who is responsible for them sneers at you, and -says, 'If you were in their place, I would treat you the same.' He -laughs at your remonstrances, and draws the cords still tighter, and -tortures the quivering flesh still more mercilessly, and cries, 'It is -my estate, they are my subjects, and I will do as I please with them. -Let them abjure their God, and I may show them mercy. Their bodies are -mine, they have no souls!' To argue with him is presumption; in his -arrogant estimation of himself the 'divinity that doth hedge a king' -places him above human conditions--this man, who comes of a family -with a social history so degrading that, were it attached to one of -low degree, he would not be admitted into decent society. Talk to him -of humanity, and he derides and defies you. You burn with indignation; -but what action do you take?" - -"It is a strong illustration," said the engineer; "but it is not with -nations as with families." - -"It is," said Aaron, with passionate fervour. "There is no distinction -in the eyes of God. We are all members of one family, and the world is -our heritage. The world is divided into nations, nations into cities, -towns, and villages, and these are subdivided into houses, each having -its separate rulers; and, though physically and geographically wide -apart, all are linked by the one common tie of our common humanity. -The same emotions, the same passions, the same aspirations, run -through all alike. Does it make an innocent babe a malefactor because -he is born in Russia instead of France or England? But it is so -considered, and his life is made a misery to him by monsters who, when -they give bloody work to their armies to do, blasphemously declare -that the Lord of hosts is on their side, and call upon Him to bless -their infamous banners." - -It was seldom that Aaron expressed himself so passionately, and, as -the engineer made no reply, they did not pursue the discussion. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - - THE FAREWELL. - - -When it became known that Aaron was about to leave the quiet -resting-place in which the last few years had been passed, and in -which he had enjoyed peace and prosperity, a general feeling of regret -was expressed, and efforts were made to induce him to change his -resolution. Coming among them a stranger, a foreigner, and an alien in -religion, he had won for himself the lasting esteem of all classes of -the community. The village was now an important centre, its trade was -in a flourishing condition, and its population had largely increased; -as a natural consequence, property had risen in value, and the old -residents were growing rich. It was ungrudgingly acknowledged that all -this was due to Aaron Cohen's enterprise and to the integrity of his -character. The well-to-do and the poor alike deplored the impending -loss, and united in their appeals to him to remain; but they were -unsuccessful. There was in Aaron a latent ambition, of which he -himself was scarcely aware, to move in a larger sphere, and to play -his part in life among his own people. His intention had been at first -to remain in the pretty French village only long enough to benefit -Rachel's health, and had it not been for the chance that threw him and -the engineer together, and which opened up enterprises which had led -to such fortunate results, he would have fulfilled this intention and -have selected some populous city in England to pursue his career. One -venture had led to another, and the success which had attended them -was a sufficient inducement to tarry. But now that the partnership was -at an end the incentive was gone, and he was not sorry that he was in -a certain sense compelled to return to his native land. One thing in -his life in the village had weighed heavily upon him. There was no -established synagogue in which he and his family could worship, and, -as we have seen, it was in his own home that he carried out all the -ceremonials of his religion. Much as Aaron had reason to be grateful -for, he yearned to follow the practices of his religion among a larger -body of his co-religionists, to have the honour of taking the sacred -scroll from the ark, to hear the chazan's voice from the pulpit and -the melodious chant of the choir, followed by the deep responses of -the congregation. He had an instinctive leaning to movement and -colour. He loved the peace of his home; it was his ark of rest; but he -loved also the bustle and turmoil of life. He was essentially an -administrator, and fitted by nature for the control and direction of -large bodies of men. Had he been single he would doubtless have -migrated to one of the new colonies which perennially spring up under -British rule, and have taken a prominent part in its growth and -development. It is greatly due to Jewish spirit and enterprise that -these new countries thrive and flourish so rapidly. - -There was another consideration. Aaron wished his son Joseph to grow -up amid his co-religionists, to mix with them, to become familiar with -their ways, so that he might be fixed firmly in the faith of his -forefathers. There was no Jewish school in the village in which the -lad could be educated. He looked forward to the future. Joseph would -become a man, and in this village there were limitations and -restrictions which were not favourable to the formation of strong -character. Here was a young mind to be trained; the more comprehensive -the surroundings the better the chance of worldly advancement. He -discussed these matters with Rachel. - -"Yes," she said, "let us go. But I shall never forget the happy years -we have passed here." - -"Nor I," said Aaron. "Honour and good fortune have attended us. May a -blessing rest upon the village and all the dwellers therein!" - -Then Rachel spoke of her poor and of her regret at leaving them. - -"We will bear them in remembrance," said Aaron, "and before we bid -them, farewell something can be done to place them in permanent -comfort." - -Much was done by Rachel and himself. For some time past he had -bestowed a great part of his benefactions in such a manner that those -whom he befriended were ignorant of the source from which the good -flowed. In order that this should be carried out as he wished he had -to seek an agent; looking around he made his selection, and asked the -curé of the village to be his almoner, explaining that he did not wish -it to be known that the money came from him. The curé, much surprised, -accepted the office; Aaron was grievously disturbing his opinion of -the heretic. After the meeting with Rachel, which has been described -in the previous chapter, he had visited her home with the laudable -desire of converting the family to the true faith, and had found -himself confronted with peculiar difficulties. He strove to draw them -into argument, but in a theological sense they slipped through his -fingers. Aaron's course in this respect was premeditated, Rachel's was -unconsciously pursued. She listened to all he said, and smilingly -acquiesced in his declaration that there was only one road open to -heaven's gates. - -"It is the road of right-doing, father," she said, "the road of -kindness, of doing unto others as you would they should do unto you, -of dispensing out of your store, whether it be abundant or not, what -you can spare to relieve the unfortunate. You are right, father; there -is only one road." - -By her sweetness and charity, by her practical sympathy with the -suffering, she cut the ground from under his feet. He spoke of the -saints, and she said they were good men and women, and were receiving -their reward. In a word, she took the strength and subtlety out of -him, and he yielded with sighs of regret and admiration. With Aaron he -was more trenchant, and quite as unsuccessful. Many of Aaron's -humorous observations made the good priest laugh in spite of himself, -and the pearls of wisdom which fell from the Jew's lips crumbled his -arguments to dust. There was no scoffing or irreverence on Aaron's -part; he simply parried the thrusts with a wisdom and humanity deeper -and truer than those of which his antagonist could boast. - -"My son," said the curé, "would you not make me a Jew if it were in -your power?" - -"No," replied Aaron, "we do not proselytise, and even if we did you -are too good a Christian for me to wish to make you a Jew." - -This was one of the puzzling remarks which caused the curé to ponder, -and which dwelt long in his mind; sometimes he thought that Aaron was -a man of deep subtlety, sometimes that he was a man of great -simplicity, but whether subtle or simple he felt it impossible to -withhold a full measure of respect from one whose eternal lot he -sighed to think was perdition and everlasting torment. That sincerity -was the true test of faith, as Aaron declared, he would not admit; -there could be no sincerity in a faith that was false, there could be -no sincerity if you did not believe as he believed. Nevertheless, he -had an uncomfortable impression that he was being continually worsted -in the peaceful war of words in which they invariably engaged when -they came together. - -As Aaron was not to be turned from his resolution to leave the -country, the villagers took steps to show their respect for him. -Public meetings were held, which were attended by many persons from -surrounding districts, and there was a banquet, of which Aaron did not -partake, the food not being cooked according to the Jewish formula. He -contented himself with fruit and bread, and made a good and sufficient -meal. Speeches were made in his honour, and he was held up as an -example to old and young. His response was in admirable taste. He said -that the years he had spent among them were the happiest in his life, -and that it was with true regret he found himself compelled to leave -the village. He spoke of his first coming among them with a beloved -wife in a delicate state of health, who had grown well and strong in -the beautiful spot. It was not alone the sweet air, he said, which had -brought the blessing of health to her; the bond of sympathy which had -been established between her and her neighbours had been as a -spiritual medicine to her, which had given life a value of which it -would otherwise have been deprived. It was not so much the material -reward of our labours that conferred happiness upon us as the feeling -that we were passing our days among friends who always had a smile and -a pleasant greeting for us. Riches were perishable, kindly -remembrances immortal. The lessons of life were to be learned from the -performance of simple acts of duty; for he regarded it as a duty to so -conduct ourselves as to make our presence welcome, and agreeable to -those with whom we were in daily association. As to the kind things -that had been said of him, he felt that he was scarcely worthy of -them. "There is," he said, "a leaven of human selfishness in all that -we do; and the little I have, with the blessing of God, been enabled -to do has conferred upon me a much greater pleasure than it could -possibly have conferred upon others. To you and to my residence among -you I owe all my good fortune, to you and to my residence among you I -owe my dear wife's restoration to health; and it would be ingratitude -indeed did I not endeavour to make some return for the good you have -showered upon me. I shall never forget you, nor will my wife forget -you; in our native land we shall constantly recall the happy years we -spent in this pleasant village, and we shall constantly pray that -peace and prosperity may never desert you." The earnestness and -feeling with which these sentiments were uttered were unmistakable and -convincing, and when Aaron resumed his seat the eyes of all who had -assembled to do him honour were turned upon him approvingly and -sympathisingly. "Ah," groaned the good curé, "were he not a Jew he -would be a perfect man!" The flowers which graced the banqueting table -were sent by special messenger to Rachel, and the following day she -pressed a few and kept them ever afterwards among her precious relics. -Aaron did not come home till late in the night, and he found Rachel -waiting up for him. He delighted her by describing the incidents and -speeches of the memorable evening. Aaron was a great smoker, and while -they talked he smoked the silver-mounted pipe for which he had so -great an affection. - -There are in the possession of many men dumb memorials of -insignificant value which they would not part with for untold gold, -and this silver-mounted pipe of Aaron's was one of these. Before -Rachel was blind she had been in the habit of filling it for him, and -when she was deprived of sight he sorely missed the affectionate -service. Tears started to his eyes one night when, with a loving -smile, she handed it to him, filled; and now she did it for him -regularly. Rachel had indulged in a piece of extravagance. She had a -special case made for the pipe, adorned with the letters A. and R. -outlined in brilliants, and Aaron handled his treasure almost with the -care and affection he bestowed upon his children. - -"Your health was proposed," said Aaron, "and the health of our little -ones. What was said about you, my life, gave me much more pleasure -than what was said about myself. It abashes one to have to sit and -listen to extravagant praises far beyond one's merits, but it is the -habit of men to run into extravagance." - -"They could say nothing, dear husband, that you do not deserve." - -"You too!" exclaimed Aaron, gaily. "It is well for me that you were -not there, for you might have been called upon to give your -testimony." - -"I should not have had the courage." She fondly pressed his hand. "I -am glad they spoke of me kindly." - -"They spoke of you truly, and my heart leaped up within me at what the -good curé said of you, for it was he who proposed the toast. I -appreciated it more from him than I should have done from any one -else, and he was quite sincere for the moment in all the sentiments he -expressed, whatever he may have thought of himself afterwards for -asking his flock to drink the health of a Jewess. Well, well, it takes -all sorts to make a world." - -"How much we have to be grateful for!" said Rachel, with a happy sigh. - -"Indeed, indeed, for boundless gratitude. Think of what we passed -through in Gosport"--he paused suddenly; the one experience which -weighed upon his conscience brought a dark and troubled shadow into -his face. - -"Why do you pause, dear? Has not my blindness proved a blessing to us? -Do I miss my sight? Nay, I think it has made life sweeter. But for -that we should not have come to this place, but for that we should not -have had the means to do something towards the relief of a few -suffering and deserving people. Nothing but good has sprung from it. -Our Lord God be praised." - -Aaron recovered himself. "There was Mr. Whimpole's visit to us before -I commenced business, there were those stupid boys who distressed you -so with their revilings, which I managed to turn against themselves. -It was this pipe of yours, my life, that gave me the inspiration how -to disarm them. It sharpens my faculties, it brings out my best -points; it is really to me a friend and counsellor. And now I have -smoked enough, and it is time to go to bed. I will join you -presently." - -In solitude the one troubled memory of the past forced itself -painfully upon him. Did he deserve what had been said in his honour -on this night? He valued men's good opinion, and of all the men he -knew he valued most the good opinion of the curé. What would this -single-minded, conscientious priest think of him if he were acquainted -with the sin of which he had been guilty, the sin of bringing up an -alien child in a religion in which she had not been born? He would -look upon him with horror. And it was a bitter punishment that he was -compelled to keep this secret locked in his own breast, that he dared -not reveal it to a single human creature, that he dared not say -openly, "I have sinned, I have sinned. Have mercy upon me!" To his own -beloved wife, dearer to him than life itself, he had behaved -treacherously; even in her he dared not confide. It was not with -Rachel as it was with him; there was no difference in the love she -bore her children; they were both equally precious to her. To fall -upon his knees before her and make confession would be like striking a -dagger into her heart; it almost drove him mad to think of the shock -such a revelation would be to her. No, he must guard his secret and -his sin jealously to the last hour of his life. So far as human -discovery went he believed himself to be safe; the betrayal, if it -ever came, lay with himself. True, he had in his possession testimony -which might damn him were it to fall into other hands, the little iron -safe which Mr. Moss had received from Dr. Spenlove, and at the -mother's request had conveyed to him. In his reflections upon the -matter lately the question had intruded itself, What did this little -box contain? It was impossible for him to say, but he felt -instinctively that there was evidence in it which would bring his sin -home to him. He allowed his thoughts now to dwell upon the mother. -From the day on which he received the five hundred pounds from Mr. -Gordon's lawyers he had heard nothing from them, nothing from Mr. Moss -or from anybody relating to the matter. Between himself and Mr. Moss -there had been a regular though not very frequent correspondence, but -his friend had never written one word concerning it, and Aaron, of -course, had not referred to it. Thus far, therefore, it was buried in -a deep grave. - -But would this grave never be opened? If other hands were not -responsible for the act would it not be his duty to cause the light of -truth to shine upon it? The mother had stipulated that, in the event -of her husband's death, she should be free to seek her child, should -be free to claim the box. Upon this contingency seemed to hang his -fate; but there were arguments in his favour. Mr. Gordon might live, -and the mother could do nothing. Arguing that the man died, it was -more than probable that his wife had borne other children who had a -claim upon her love which she acknowledged. To seek then her child of -shame would be the means of bringing disgrace upon these children of -her marriage. Would she deliberately do this? He answered the question -immediately, No. In the consideration of these phases of the matter he -bore in mind that, although the false news of the child's death must -of necessity have been communicated to Mr. Gordon by his lawyers, it -was likely that it had been kept from the knowledge of the mother. -Aaron had been made to understand that Mr. Gordon was a man of -inflexible resolution, and that he had pledged himself never under any -circumstances to make mention of the child to the woman he had -married. Even setting this aside, even going to the length of arguing -that, hearing of the child's death, Mr. Gordon departed from the -strict letter of his resolution, and said to his wife, "Your child is -dead," was it not likely that she would reply, "I do not believe it; -you tell me so only to deceive me"? In that case, her husband dead and -herself childless, would she not search the world over for her -offspring? - -Setting this all aside, however, the onus still devolved upon him to -open the grave. One of the stipulations attached to his receipt of the -box was that when Ruth was twenty-one years of age it should be handed -over to her. Would he dare to violate this condition? Would he so far -tamper with his conscience as to neglect an obligation which might be -deemed sacred? The question tortured him; he could not answer it. - -He heard Rachel moving in the room above, and with a troubled heart he -went up to her. Thus this night, the events of which were intended to -shed honour and glory upon him, ended in sadness, and thus was it -proved that the burden of a new deceit may be as a feather-weight to -the solemn and heavy consequences which follow in its train. - -Everything was ready for the departure of the Cohens, which was to -take place at the end of the week. Before the day arrived they -received other tokens in proof of the appreciation in which they were -held. A deputation of working men waited on Aaron, and presented him -with an address. The employers of labour themselves--secretly glad, -perhaps, that he was going from among them--paid him a special honour. -Rachel's heart throbbed with gratitude and with pride in her husband. -But her greatest pleasure, in which were mingled touches of deep -sorrow, was derived from the affecting testimony of the poor she had -befriended. Old men and women witnessed their departure, and bidding -farewell to Rachel, prayed God's blessing upon her. Children gave her -flowers, and their childish voices were full of affection. The tears -ran from her eyes; she could hardly tear herself away. At length it -was over; they were gone; but it was long before her sweet face faded -from their memory. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - - AT THE GRAVE OF HIS CHILD. - - -The years that followed until Ruth was grown to womanhood and Joseph -was a young man were eventful years for Aaron and his family. He -returned to England the possessor of a few thousands of pounds, and -was received with open arms by the Jewish community. He found to his -surprise that the story of his life in a foreign land was known to his -co-religionists, who are ever eager to acknowledge the success of -their brethren. With Jews, as with Christians, success is a power, an -"open sesame;" they are proud of it as reflecting honour upon the -race, and, as is the human fashion, are willing to overlook a -retrograde step or two in matters of religious observance on the parts -of those who have won their way into the front ranks. It is also -human, perhaps, that they are less tolerant to those who have not been -so successful. Aaron Cohen, as we know, had no need of such -indulgence; by poor and rich, by the heterodox and the orthodox, he -was hailed as a worthy upholder of the old faith which has survived -the persecutions of thousands of years. Before he went to Gosport he -had resided in the East End of London, and he derived pleasure from -his visits to the old familiar ground and from the renewal of -acquaintance with old friends who had not prospered in life's battle. -That he should be asked to assist these was natural, and the practical -aid he tendered brought its reward. In a certain sense he became -suddenly famous. "That's Aaron Cohen," said the East End Jews, -pointing him out as he passed; "he used to live here, and he has made -an enormous fortune"--multiplying his riches, of course, a -hundredfold. But a man may be famous without being popular; Aaron was -both, and he was not allowed to remain in ignorance of the fact. He -was offered an honourable office in his synagogue, and he gladly -accepted it. He was asked to serve on the board of several of the -Jewish charities with which London abounds, and he did not refuse one -of these requests. It was his earnest wish to make himself practically -useful to the community, and also to do something towards the stemming -of the tide of loose religious observance which was steadily rising -among his brethren. Upon this subject he had many conversations with -the clerical leaders of the chosen people, who saw the inroads that -were being made and seemed powerless to provide a remedy. It did not -occur to them that by a bold grasp of the nettle danger they might -pluck from it the flower safety. Aaron Cohen believed in the thirteen -articles of the Creed framed by Maimonides, which are accepted as the -fundamental articles of the Jewish faith. He believed in following--so -far as was practicable in the present age--the precepts which -Moses transmitted to his race, with which all faithful Jews should -be familiar. Some, he knew, were obsolete; such as those affecting -the Nazarites, of whom not one disciple exists to-day among -English-speaking communities: others were impracticable; such, for -instance, as those relating to the burnt sacrifices, the redeeming of -the male firstling of an ass, and the punishment of criminals by -stoning and the sword. But in this code of six hundred and thirteen -precepts are to be found many which breathe the pure essence of the -faith in which he was born, and these he believed it incumbent upon -him to obey. His lectures and addresses to Jewish audiences in the -East End of London were listened to with breathless interest; the -halls were not large enough to accommodate those who thronged to hear -him. He drew from history illustrations of their past grandeur which -fired and thrilled them. Sensible of the impression he made upon them, -Aaron Cohen had reason to be proud of the part he was playing, but -there was more room in his heart for humbleness than pride; the shadow -of a committed sin for ever attended him. - -Apart from these communal matters he had much to do. In business hours -business claimed him, and he answered zealously to the call. To such a -man idleness would have been little less than a living death, and, -taking up his residence in London, he embarked very soon in -enterprises of magnitude. The knowledge he had gained during his -partnership in France was of immense value to him, and in conjunction -with other men of technical resource, he contracted for public works -in various parts of the country. His fortune grew, and he gradually -became wealthy. He moved from one house to another, and each move was -a step up the ladder. A house in Prince's Gate came into the market, -and Aaron purchased it, and furnished it with taste and elegance. -There he entertained liberally but not lavishly, for his judgment led -him always to the happy mean, and his house became the resort of men -and women of intellect and culture. Mr. Moss, who was wedded to -Portsmouth, and continued to flourish there, paid periodical visits to -London, and was always welcome in Aaron's home. He was as musically -inclined as ever; and opportunities were afforded him of hearing the -finest singers and players at Prince's Gate. On occasions, Aaron -readily consented to give an introduction, through concerts held in -his house, to young aspirants in whom Mr. Moss took an interest; and -to other budding talent in the same direction Aaron's rooms were -always open. In relation to their intimacy in Gosport a conversation -took place between Mr. Moss and Aaron some three years after the -latter was settled in London. Aaron had just completed a successful -contract, and business had called Mr. Moss to the metropolis. - -"I heard to-day," said Mr. Moss, "that you had cleared six or seven -thousand pounds by the contract." - -"The balance on the right side," replied Aaron, "is a little over -seven thousand." - -"I congratulate you. The gentleman I spoke with said that if he had -had the contract he would have made a profit of three times as much." - -"It is likely." - -"Then, why didn't you do it, Cohen?" - -Aaron smiled and shook his head. "Let us speak of another subject." - -"But I want to get at the bottom of this. I should like you to know -what the gentleman said about it." - -"Very well. What did he say?" - -"That you are ruining the labour market." - -"Ruin to some men may mean salvation to others. He doubtless gives an -explanation. How am I ruining the labour market?" - -"By high wages and short hours." - -"That is a new view." - -"You do pay high wages, Cohen, according to what everybody says." - -"Oh, it's everybody now, as well as your gentleman friend. Yes, I pay -good wages, and I don't consider them high." - -"And the hours are not as long as they might be." - -"Quite true. They might be twelve, fourteen, sixteen, out of the -twenty-four. We read of such unfair strains upon human labour. My -hours are reasonably long enough. If I am satisfied and my workmen are -satisfied, I give offence to no man." - -"You are wrong, Cohen; you give offence to the capitalist." - -"I regret to hear it." - -"He says you are ruining the capitalist." - -"Oh, I am ruining the capitalist now. But if that is the case, he is -no longer a capitalist." - -"You know what I mean. I don't pretend to understand these things as -you do, because I have not studied political economy." - -"I have, and believe me it is a horse that has been ridden too hard. -Mischief will come of it. Apply your common sense. In what way would -your friend have made twenty-one thousand pounds out of the contract -instead of seven thousand?" - -"By getting his labour cheaper and by making his men work longer -hours." - -"Exactly. And the difference of fourteen thousand pounds would have -gone into his pocket instead of the pockets of his workmen." - -"Yes, of course." - -"Ask yourself if that is fair. The wages I pay my men are sufficient -to enable them to maintain a home decently, to bring up their families -decently, and perhaps, if they are wise and thrifty--only, mind you, -if they are wise and thrifty--to make a small provision for old age, -when they are no longer able to work. Their hours are long enough to -give them just a little leisure, which they can employ partly in -reasonable amusement and partly in intellectual improvement. I have -gone thoroughly into these matters, and I know what I am talking -about. Men who do their work honestly--and I employ and will keep no -others--have a right to fair wages and a little leisure, and I decline -to grind my men down after the fashion of the extreme political -economist. The contract I have just completed was tendered for in an -open market. My tender was the lowest, and was accepted. I make a -considerable sum of money out of it, and each of my men contributes a -mickle towards it. They believe I have treated them fairly, and I am -certain they have treated me fairly. Upon those lines I intend to make -my way. Your sweater is a political economist. I am not a sweater. It -is the course I pursued in France, and by it I laid the foundation of -what may prove to be a great fortune. I am tendering now for other -contracts, and I shall obtain my share, and shall pursue precisely the -same course. Mr. Moss, you and I are Jews. At a great disadvantage -because of the nature of your business, which I myself once intended -to follow, you have made yourself respected in the town in which you -reside. Why? Because you are a fair-dealing man. I, on my part, wish -to make myself respected in whatever part of the world I live. To this -end the conditions are somewhat harder for us than for our Christian -neighbours. They drive as hard bargains as we do, they are equally -guilty of malpractices. When one is found out--a terrible crime, as we -know--it is not said of him, 'What could you expect? He is a -Christian.' It is not so with us. When one of us is proved to be -guilty of sharp dealing, it is said, 'What could you expect? He is a -Jew.' I will not go into the question whether we have justly earned -the reproach; but it certainly lays upon us the obligation of being -more careful than perhaps we might otherwise be, of even giving way a -little, of being a trifle more liberal. It is a duty we owe to -ourselves. Surely there is no race to which it is a greater honour, -and should be the greatest pride to belong, than the Jewish race; and -by my conduct through life I trust I shall do nothing to tarnish that -honour or lower that pride. Moreover, what I can do to weaken a -prejudice shall be done to the last hour of my life. It may or may not -be for that reason that I decline to follow the political economist to -the depths into which he has fallen." - -Mr. Moss's eyes gleamed. Aaron had touched a sympathetic cord; the men -shook hands and smiled cordially at each other. - -"When you were in Gosport," said Mr. Moss, "I ought to have asked you -to go into partnership with me." - -"If you had made the offer," responded Aaron, "I should have accepted -it." - -"Lucky for you that I missed my opportunity. It is a fortunate thing -that you went to France when you did." - -"Very fortunate. It opened up a new career for me; it restored my dear -wife to health; my son was born there." - -"About the poor child I brought to you in Gosport, Cohen. We have -never spoken of it." - -"That is true," said Aaron, outwardly calm; but his heart beat more -quickly. - -"Did the lawyers ever write to you again?" - -"Never." - -"And I have heard nothing. The iron box I gave you--you have it still, -I suppose?" - -"I have it still." - -"I have often wondered what it contains, and whether the mother will -ever call for it." - -"If she does it shall be handed to her in the same condition as you -handed it to me. But she does not know in whose possession it is." - -"No, she does not know, and she can only obtain the information from -Mr. Gordon's lawyers. My lips are sealed." - -Aaron considered a moment. This opening up of the dreaded subject made -him keenly sensible of the sword that was hanging over his head; but -his sense of justice impelled him to say, "It may happen that the -mother will wish to have the box restored to her, and that the lawyers -may refuse to give her the information that it is in my possession. -She may seek elsewhere for a clue, and may be directed to you." - -"Who will direct her? Nothing is more unlikely." - -"It is at least probable," said Aaron. - -"Well," Mr. Moss rejoined, "if she does apply to me, I shall not -enlighten her. It is none of my business." - -"My desire is that you do enlighten her. The box is her property, and -I have no right to retain it." - -"Very well, Cohen, if you wish it; but it is my opinion that you will -never see her again. She has forgotten all about it long ago." - -"You are mistaken. A mother never forgets." - -"And now, Cohen, I have a message for you from Mrs. Moss. She is -burning to see you, and cannot come to London. We are about to have an -addition to our family; that will be the sixteenth. Upon my word, I -don't know when we are going to stop. Is it too much to ask you to pay -us a visit?" - -"Not at all; it will give me great pleasure. When?" - -"It will give Mrs. Moss greater pleasure," said Mr. Moss, rubbing his -hands joyously at this answer. "She will be delighted, and so will all -our friends in Portsmouth. You have no idea how anxious she has been -about it. She was afraid you would refuse because----" - -He paused rather awkwardly. - -"Finish the sentence," urged Aaron, in a kind tone. - -"To tell you the truth," said Mr. Moss, with a frank laugh, "she -thought you might be too grand now to visit us. I told her she was -mistaken. 'Cohen is not the kind of man to forget the past,' I said to -her." - -"No," said Aaron; "I do not forget the past." - -The sad tone in which these words were spoken escaped Mr. Moss. With a -beaming face, he continued,-- - -"'Once a friend,' I said to Mrs. Moss, 'always a friend. It does not -matter to him whether a man is up or down in the world, so long as he -is honest and straightforward.' Why, if business went wrong, and I was -in trouble, I should come straight to you." - -Aaron pressed the hand of this warm-hearted friend. - -"You would do right. I hope you may never need my services in that -way; but if unhappily you should, do not hesitate to come to me." - -"I promise you, Cohen, I promise you. Not that there is any likelihood -of it. To bring up such a family as ours is no light matter, keeps -one's nose to the grindstone, as the saying is; but we're not at all -badly off. I return to Portsmouth on Thursday. Will that time suit you -for the visit?" - -"Yes; I will accompany you." - -And away went Mr. Moss, overjoyed, to write to his wife to make all -needful preparations. Not being acquainted with the secret which had -become the torture of Aaron Cohen's life, he could have had no idea -that the ready acceptance of the invitation sprang from a father's -burning desire to stand by the grave of his child. - -Aaron's visit lasted a week, and he spent one day and night in -Gosport. Nothing was changed in the ancient town. The house he had -occupied had been rebuilt; the streets were the same; the names over -the shops were unaltered. His wish was to pass in and out of the town -without being recognised; but the wish was not gratified. The -Portsmouth newspapers circulated in Gosport, and Aaron Cohen's visit -"to our esteemed neighbour, Mr. Moss," found its way into the local -columns. It may be that Mr. Moss himself was the harbinger of this -piece of news and that he was also responsible for certain creditable -episodes in Aaron's career which were duly recorded in print; but if -the reporters were indebted to him for the particulars he made no -mention of the fact. He was certainly proud of the paragraphs, and -sent copies of the papers to all his friends. The Gosport folk were -therefore prepared for Aaron's visit; old friends came forward to -greet him; and the kind physician who had attended to Rachel during -her illness pressed him to be his guest, but Aaron excused himself. -When he left the doctor his road lay past Mr. Whimpole's shop, at the -door of which the proprietor was standing. Their eyes meeting, Aaron -courteously inclined his head. The corn-chandler, very red in the -face, returned the salute, and, after a momentary hesitation, advanced -towards Aaron with outstretched hand. Aaron stopped, and took the hand -of his old enemy. - -"Mr. Cohen," said Mr. Whimpole, "I hope you do not bear animosity." - -"I do not, sir," replied Aaron. "Life is too full of anxieties for -needless enmity." - -"I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Cohen. I have often reproached -myself for misjudging you; but the best of men may be mistaken." - -"They may, sir. I trust you have changed your opinion of those whose -religious views differ from your own." - -"We speak as we find," said Mr. Whimpole; "and you have proved -yourself to be a gentleman." - -"It is never too late to admit an error," said Aaron; and, bowing -again, he passed on, leaving Mr. Whimpole with an uncomfortable -impression that he had once more been worsted by the man he despised. - -It was night when Aaron stood by the grave of his child. Light clouds -floated before the moon, and the shifting shadows played upon the -graves of those who lay in peace in that solemn sanctuary. For a long -time he stood in silence, musing upon the sin he had committed, the -full measure of which had not yet come home to him. He held a high -place among men; his name was honoured; he had been spoken of as Aaron -Cohen the upright Jew; he had made himself a leader, and had but to -speak to be obeyed; he had brought back strayed sheep to the fold. The -Chief Rabbi had said to him, "The example of such a man as yourself is -invaluable. Inroads are being made in our ancient faith, and you stand -like a valiant soldier in the breach. You exercise an influence for -incalculable good." And then he had blessed the man who was hugging an -awful secret close, and veiling it from the eyes of men. How would it -be if his sin were laid bare? - -The spirit of his child seemed to rise from the grave. - -"Why am I here?" it asked reproachfully. "Why am I cut off from my -race?" - -He beat his breast; the tears flowed down his beard. - -"Forgive me, Lord of hosts," he sobbed, "for laying my child to rest -in a Christian churchyard! It was to save my beloved! Pardon my -transgression! Have mercy upon me!" - - - - - - BOOK THE FIFTH. - - _THE GATHERING OF THE CLOUD_. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - - AARON IS ASKED FOR A SUBSCRIPTION, AND RELATES - THE STORY OF A CONVERT. - - -The highest point in Aaron Cohen's prosperity was reached in 1893. -From the day of his return to England there had been no break in the -onward march of his fortunes; every enterprise he undertook -flourished, and the old saying was applied to him, "Everything he -touches turns to gold." A kind of superstition is associated with such -men; people regard them as under the spell of some beneficent -enchantment. Aaron's reputation, however, was not due solely to the -fact that he was uniformly fortunate in his ventures, but that he was -a just and charitable man. No appeal for assistance in any worthy -movement was made to him in vain; his purse was ever open, and he was -ever ready to respond. Among his co-religionists he was a power for -good, and his advice was sought by high and low. The poorest Jew, in a -time of difficulty, did not hesitate to go to him for counsel, and -only those held back whose conduct would not stand the searching light -he threw upon all matters submitted to him. By the oppressor he was -held in awe, by the oppressed he was worshipped. One of the former, -who had grown rich by usury, came to him for advice. Aaron listened in -silence, and spoke no word of counsel to assist him out of his -difficulty. "Reform your life," he said; "give back to the poor what -you have stolen from them; then come to me again." - -He did not confine his labours and charities to the Jewish community; -his name was to be found among the administrators of all their -benevolent funds, and it was also to be found on the lists of -numberless Christian charities. In so generous a spirit did he meet -the appeals that were made to him, and so devoid of narrowness were -his benefactions, that he grew into the esteem of all classes of -society. Early in the year a public indignation meeting was held at -the Mansion House under the auspices of the Lord Mayor, to protest -against the barbarous treatment of the Jews in Russia. Church and -synagogue joined hands in the common cause of human brotherhood. It -was not a question of theology but of humanity, and Catholic Cardinal, -Protestant Bishop, and Jewish Chief Rabbi stood shoulder to shoulder -in the indignant protest. Aaron was requested to speak on the -occasion, and his words went forth to the world, and were quoted far -and wide. In the course of his speech he said: "We do not ask for -favour, we scarcely dare ask for justice, though it is to be hoped -that this will come by-and-by, when the eyes of the rulers of Russia -are open to the fact that in their oppression of the Jew they are not -only violating the laws of God and man, but are retarding their own -prosperity. We ask merely for toleration, for permission to follow the -faith in which we were born, to worship God according to our ancient -usage. The history of nations furnishes the proof that the Jew, fairly -treated, is a good citizen, that he is obedient to the law, and loyal -to the head of the State and in his support of lawful authority. In -his love of family life, in the orderly regulation of his household, -in the performance of his duty to wife and children, he is surely -entitled to rank with his Christian brother. He is, moreover, -industrious and enterprising, he excites emulation and stimulates the -commercial activity of his neighbour, by which the wealth of the -general community is increased. These are distinct virtues, private -and national, but Russian rulers seem to account them crimes. When a -tale of bodily slavery reaches a civilised country a thrill of horror -runs through the land, and it is not the least of the glorious records -of England that wherever the English-speaking race holds sway the -shackles of the slave are removed, and he hears the blessed words, -'You are free!' But in Russia they are not content to chain the body; -they hold man's soul in bondage. Not only do they say to the Jew, -'Your presence is a contamination; you shall not live in this or that -town or city; you shall not engage in such or such pursuits; you shall -wear badges of disgrace;' but they add, 'You shall not think; you -shall not pray.' Incredible are the instances of cruelty which are -brought before us: of families torn asunder; of the deliberate -wrecking of cherished hopes and worthy aspirations; of steady and -honourable lives brought to ruin; of shameful robbery and pillage, and -even of worse doings which I should blush to name. It is indeed time -that the voice of humanity should be forced upon the ears of the -oppressors who are making life horrible for millions of helpless human -beings; and we, the Jewish residents in this honoured land, render our -grateful homage to this distinguished assembly, and our sincere thanks -for its powerful assistance in the endeavour we are making to rescue -our brethren from misery and despair." - -He was congratulated on all sides for these stirring words, which were -recognised and acknowledged as a fitting tribute to the Jewish -character. Some called it a vindication; he would not have it so. "We -need no vindication now in this happy land," he said. "We have proved -ourselves; the old prejudice is dying away." - -When the speech was read to Rachel her eyes overflowed with tears of -joy. Aaron, coming in shortly afterwards, found her holding the -newspaper to her heart. She took his hand, and raised it to her lips. - -"No, no," he said; "you humble me." - -He folded her in his arms, where she lay, contented and happy. - -As a matter of course he was sometimes beguiled into bestowing money -upon unworthy objects or persons, but it did not affect him. "Where -lives the man who does not make mistakes?" he said. "If there is one -deserving case in ten I am satisfied." In the wide scope of his -charities he had some curious experiences, and one of these, becoming -known, was the theme of much comment, both serious and humorous. -A gentleman called upon him and solicited a contribution to an -old-established society, the name of which he did not mention. He -contented himself with saying that it was known all the world over, -and that its objects were universally approved of. - -"You do not, I suppose," said Aaron, "expect me to give in the dark. -Favour me with the name of the society." - -"You have doubtless heard of it," replied the gentleman. "It is the -Society for the Promotion of Christianity amongst the Jews." - -Aaron smiled as he said, "Yes, I have heard of it. But, my dear sir, I -am myself a Jew." - -"I am aware of it," said the gentleman, "and the reason I make the -appeal is that you have been described to me as a man who has no -narrow prejudices, and who is in no sense dogmatic or bigoted." - -"It is, then, a compliment you are paying me when you ask me to -contribute to a fund which is antagonistic to my race." - -"In your view antagonistic," observed the gentleman. "There are -generally two sides to a question." - -"I see. Meaning that my view is not necessarily the correct view." - -The gentleman nodded courteously. He was not a collector for the -society, nor a paid officer, but a man of means who was also noted for -his benevolence. - -"I have myself occasionally," he remarked, "given a donation to an -object with which I was not in entire sympathy." - -"When you decided to pay me a visit had you any hope of converting -me?" - -"Your conversion would give our society an immense impetus, but I had -no hope of it. But there are men whose views are not so firmly fixed -as your own, and I thought you would not object to assist them in the -praiseworthy task of examining their consciences." - -"Through a lens made of gold. In other words, giving them mercenary -assistance to a spiritual conclusion." - -"It is an original way of putting it," said the gentleman, greatly -interested in the turn the conversation was taking. - -"I cannot but consider the matter seriously," said Aaron, -thoughtfully, "for there can be no doubt of your sincerity. Still, it -occurs to me that if we were both equally sincere in our advocacy of -objects of a similar nature, it would be as well that we should pause -and ask ourselves this question. Instead of endeavouring to convert -Jews or Christians to a faith in which they were not born, would it -not be better to employ ourselves in the effort to make those who call -themselves Christians true Christians, and those who call themselves -Jews true Jews?" - -"There is force in your argument, but it is no answer to my appeal for -a contribution to the objects of my society." - -"You can probably," Aaron then said, "furnish me with particulars of -the working of your society." - -"Anticipating your request I have brought the papers with me." - -Aaron looked through the printed books and papers handed to him, and -made certain calculations. - -"I perceive," he said, "that you take credit to yourselves for making -a stated number of conversions during the past five years, and that -you have spent a stated sum of money during that period. The number of -conversions is very small, the amount of money expended very large. I -have worked out the sum, and according to my figures each convert has -cost you nearly eleven thousand pounds. You find these wavering Jews -very expensive." - -"Very expensive," assented the gentleman, with a half humorous sigh. - -"I cannot say I sympathise with you, but I will make a proposition to -you. You are zealous in the furtherance of an object which you believe -to be worthy, and I am zealous in the furtherance of an object which I -know to be worthy. I will give you a cheque as a donation to your -object if you will give me a cheque for half the amount as a donation -to mine. Do not be afraid; it is not for the promotion of Judaism -among the Christians." - -The gentleman, who was rich and liberal-minded, laughed -good-humouredly as he said, "I consent, on the further understanding -that your cheque is for a reasonable amount." - -"Will this do?" asked Aaron, filling in a cheque for one hundred -pounds. - -The gentleman made a wry face, but, without remark, he wrote a cheque -for fifty pounds, and they exchanged documents. - -"My contribution," said Aaron, "represents the one hundred and tenth -part of a convert--the one hundred and tenth part of one transitory -and, in all probability, worldly and insincere conversion. Your -contribution represents a sick bed for two years in a hospital for -poor children. During those two years you will be engaged in -converting the one hundred and tenth part of an apostate Jew, and my -hospital beds will be occupied by two poor Christian children, who, by -God's mercy, will, I trust, be restored to health. You will pardon me -for saying that I think I have the best of the transaction." - -"You are a singular man," said the gentleman, "and I will not dispute -with you. But I should like a few words with you upon what you say as -to our converts being worldly and insincere. Is that really your -opinion?" - -"It is something more than an opinion. It is a conviction." - -"Based upon some kind of proof, I presume?" - -"Based upon proof and observation. Once a Jew, always a Jew, whether -he follows the Mosaic laws or disregards them. So powerful is the seed -of Judaism that it can never be entirely destroyed in the heart of one -born in the ancient faith. We who are Jews know this to be -incontrovertible; you who are Christians may not be able to understand -it. So much for observation; now for the proof. I observe on your list -of converts the name of Borlinski." - -"You know the name?" the gentleman interrupted, eagerly. - -"It is very familiar to me," replied Aaron. - -"There are two Borlinskis on the list," said the gentleman. "Josef and -Izak." - -"I am acquainted with them both." - -"We are very proud of the Borlinskis," said the gentleman, speaking -with enthusiasm, "as the most important converts on our books. They -are under engagement with us." - -"On a salary?" - -"Yes, an insignificant salary; twenty-five shillings a week each." - -"Employed by you to make other converts." - -"Yes." - -"Have they been successful?" - -"They have been with us for a few months only," said the gentleman. -"These things take time." - -"Truly, they take time--and money. Would you mind relating to me how -the Borlinskis became associated with your society?" - -"Not at all. It was a matter of conscience, purely a matter of -conscience. That is why we are so proud of them. Josef Borlinski came -first. He presented himself at our office; he had doubts; he had had -doubts since childhood. In his country--Poland--no such society as -ours exists, where a man can obtain monition and teaching to confirm -or dispel those doubts. There are in that country converted Jews, but -the conversion is sudden and effected by a kind of terrorism. Josef -Borlinski is a reasonable being, and wished to be convinced through -his reason. We cheerfully took up the task of convincing him of the -error of his ways; we argued with him, we gave him books, he attended -our meetings, we expounded the Gospel to him. At length he was -satisfied, and became a zealous and happy convert to Christianity." - -"How many months or years did it take to convince Josef Borlinski of -his error?" asked Aaron. - -"Nearly two years." - -"During which time you supported him." - -"We could do no less. He was desperately poor, almost starving when he -came to us. Then, he was a foreigner, and the only trade--if it can be -called one--to which he could turn his hand was that of an itinerant -glazier, at which he could not earn more than three or four shillings -a week, sometimes not so much. In any circumstances, it would have -been a dangerous occupation for him to follow; he would have had to be -out the whole of the day exposed to the weather, and the poor fellow -is consumptive." - -"So that you first adopted, and then converted him. How did you get -hold of Izak Borlinski?" - -"He is Josef's cousin, and Josef brought him to us." - -"Zealous Josef! Izak also had doubts, and wished to be convinced -through his reason?" - -"That is so." - -"And you adopted and converted him as well as Josef?" - -"Yes." - -"Clever Josef! Poor, consumptive Josef! It would not surprise me if he -presently introduces another of his countrymen to you who has had -doubts since childhood, and wishes to be convinced--through his reason -and your pocket. Him, also, you can adopt and convert. Ah, what a loss -to the stage is Josef Borlinski! Only that he lacks industry, for in -him are united a fox's cunning and a sloth's love of idleness. The -rogue! He imposed upon me for months, until at length, my suspicions -aroused, I unmasked the rascal." - -"Do you mean to say that we have been imposed upon?" asked the -gentleman, in an excited tone. - -"Judge for yourself. Six years ago Josef Borlinski came to this -country, and lived for some time upon charity. I am on the committees -of several of our benevolent institutions, and at every meeting I -attended, the name of Josef Borlinski cropped up. It was always Josef -Borlinski, Josef Borlinski, destitute and starving. The continual -recurrence of the name irritated me, and I went to see this Josef -Borlinski, destitute and starving. I found him down Whitechapel way -playing draughts with his cousin, Izak. I saw before me a young man -with black eyes, black hair, and a general appearance of belonging to -the lymphatic order of being. I questioned him. How long had he been -in England? Eighteen months. Why had he lived upon charity all that -time? He was unfortunate; he could not obtain work. Was he willing to -work? Oh yes, yes, yes, several times repeated, his little cunning -eyes watching me as we conversed. Was he married? No. Had he a trade? -Unfortunately no, he had no trade. Then, what could he do, what did he -feel himself fitted for? Anything, everything. He is a man of -professions this Josef Borlinski, glib of tongue, quick at response, -supple as a reed, slippery as an eel. I reflected. He spoke English -fairly well; he looked strong and healthy, not a symptom of -consumption visible. How much a week could he, a single man, live -upon? Upon anything, nothing--a few shillings, a few pence. Thus spoke -Josef Borlinski, humbly and smoothly, interlarding his speech with -Hebrew exclamations and pious adjurations. I offered him a situation -at twenty shillings a week, to be increased if he gave satisfaction, -which required no special knowledge of a trade, and in which he would -have to work five days out of the seven. Boundless were his -professions of gratitude. I was his benefactor; he would bless me all -his life. He commenced work on the following Monday, and on the -Tuesday he presented himself to me, with his coat rent, and black -cloth round his hat. He had received a letter from Poland; his father -was dead; a week of mourning was incumbent upon him; could he be -spared to fulfil this religious obligation? Grief was in his -countenance, tears in his eyes, his voice trembled. I sympathised with -him; he could have his week's mourning. But he was destitute; he was -starving; how was he to support himself during this week of enforced -idleness? I gave him something more than a week's wages, and he -departed, blessing me. His week of mourning over, it was reported to -me that he had not returned to work. I sought him out, and found him -playing draughts with his cousin Izak. He made a thousand excuses; he -was ill; he was overwhelmed with sorrow at the loss he had sustained; -he did not understand English customs; he did not think it was lawful -to resume work in the middle of the week; moreover, he was in rags. He -obtained money from me for a new suit of clothes, and a further -extension of leave till the end of the week. On the Monday he duly -presented himself, and in the afternoon fell down in a swoon, and had -to be conveyed home in a cab, where he remained for three weeks, -supported, as usual, by charity. My wife sent him wine and jelly, and -the rascal was in clover. I visited him, and found him playing -draughts with his cousin Izak. 'The game requires no exertion,' he -said languidly; 'it is my only amusement; it diverts my mind from the -sorrow by which I am oppressed.' I thought it extremely curious. The -effects of his swoon having passed away, he commenced work again, and -on the second day I received a letter from him. He had been compelled, -he wrote, to take to his bed; he had spasms; he was doubled up with -pain; he hoped to be better soon; meanwhile, could I send him a few -shillings for medicine and food? He obtained what he asked for, and I -called to see how he was progressing. I found him playing draughts -with his cousin Izak. I was now thoroughly interested in Josef -Borlinski. Such a chapter of accidents--such a plausible speaker and -writer--so regularly unfortunate when he went to work, and so fond of -playing draughts with his cousin Izak. I He was weeks getting rid of -his spasms, but at length he recommenced work. Would you believe it? -On the evening of the first day I found him waiting for me in this -house. His left hand was in bandages, and the linen was besmeared with -blood. In Heaven's name what had happened? He told me a lugubrious -tale of having cut three of his fingers to the bone. The accident -happening in my service made me responsible, and I felt myself bound -to support him, especially as I discovered that he had related his -woes to my wife, who was filled with pity for the rascal. 'You will -look after the poor man,' she said to me; 'I promised him that you -would.' 'I will look after him,' I replied. I did, and at every visit -I paid him I found him playing draughts with his cousin Izak. He was, -however, so long getting well this time, that I sent my own doctor to -him. I also employed an agent to make inquiries into the history of -the Borlinskis. My doctor reported that it was with great difficulty -he had succeeded in obtaining a sight of Josefs wounded fingers. He -had him held fast while he took off the bandages, and then he -discovered that the fingers were without a scar, no wound of any kind -had been received. My agent reported that the Borlinskis were well -known in the village in Poland from which they had emigrated. They had -lived the lives of idle scamps there, and had never been known to do -one day's honest work. They preferred to hang about the drinking -shops, to beg, to pilfer on the sly, to impose on charitable -strangers, to do anything but work. As liars they were pre-eminent. -Josef lost his father fourteen years before he came to England, -therefore his statement that he had just received a letter from Poland -informing him of his father's death was an invention, a trick. His -swoon was a trick; his spasms a trick; his cutting his fingers to the -bone a trick. From the hairs of his head to the soles of his feet he -is a knave and a trickster; through his blood runs the incorrigible -vice of indolence, and rather than work he will resort to any -subterfuge. Only on one day in the whole year does his conscience -disturb him, on the day of the White Fast. To-day a Jew, to-morrow a -Christian, the next day a Mohammedan, the next a Pagan--it matters not -to him so long as he can make money out of it, and eat the bread of -idleness. My dear sir, I wish you joy of your Borlinskis." - -The gentleman rose to take his leave, his belief in the genuineness of -the conversion of the Borlinskis visibly shaken. He put but one -question to Aaron Cohen. - -"Josef Borlinski being what you describe him to be, what becomes of -your assertion, 'Once a Jew, always a Jew'?" - -"I have spoken of the White Fast," replied Aaron, "as the only day -upon which Josef's conscience is awake. He believes, as we all do, in -a future state, in the immortality of the soul. The White Fast is the -great Day of Atonement, when Jews pray to be forgiven the sins they -have committed during the past year. The most ignorant of them believe -that if they pray and fast on the Day of Atonement their -transgressions are atoned for. We have our black sheep, as you have; -but the blackest of them observes this day with superstitious fear, -and Josef Borlinski is not an exception. This year, on the Day of -Atonement, I myself saw Josef in synagogue, enveloped in the white -shroud he brought from Poland, beating his breast, and praying for -forgiveness for his sins. From sunset to sunset food did not pass his -lips; from sunset to sunset he prayed, and grovelled, and trembled. -Come to our synagogue next year, and you shall see him there, if -before that time he is not called to his account. Though he be -converted to twenty different religions, and baptized twenty times -over, Josef Borlinski is a Jew, and will remain a Jew to the last hour -of his life." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - - AARON COHEN ADDRESSES A JEWISH AUDIENCE. - - -The world gave Aaron Cohen credit for being exceedingly wealthy, and -fabulous tales of the success of his ventures obtained credence with -the people. Instead of the age of romance being over, there was never -a time in the world's history which afforded so much material for -romance as the present, and in which it was so eagerly sought after -and believed in. Imagination is more powerful than science, and this -is the age of both. Small wonder, therefore, for the current report -that Aaron Cohen was a millionaire; but such was not the case. He had -money and to spare, and his private establishment was conducted on a -liberal scale. Had he retired at this period he might have done so on -an income of some five thousand pounds, which people's imagination -would have multiplied by ten; and he might have justified this flight -as to his means were it not that in addition to the charities to which -he openly subscribed, a considerable portion of the profits of his -enterprises was given anonymously to every public movement for the -good of the people and for the relief of the poor. For several years -past great curiosity had been evinced to learn the name of the -anonymous donor of considerable sums of money sent through the post in -bank-notes in response to every benevolent appeal to the public purse. -A colliery disaster, a flood, an earthquake in a distant country, a -case of national destitution--to one and all came large contributions -from a singularly generous donor, who, in the place of his signature, -accompanied the gift with the simple words, "In Atonement." Several -well-known benefactors were credited with these liberal subscriptions, -but so careful was the giver in the means he adopted to preserve his -anonymity that they were not traced to the right source. They were -strange words to use to such an end. In atonement of what? Of an -undiscovered crime, the committal of which had enriched the man who -would not sign his name? A few ingenious writers argued the matter out -in the lesser journals, and although specifically they were very far -from the truth, they were in a general sense more often nearer to it -than they suspected. - -These charitable donations were Aaron's constant appeal to the Divine -Throne for mercy and forgiveness for the one sin of his life, and thus -did he effectually guard against becoming a millionaire. - -He was, indeed, unceasing in his secret charities to individuals as -well as to public bodies. Many a struggling man never discovered to -whom he was indebted for the timely assistance which lifted him out of -his troubles, and started him on the high road to prosperity; many a -widow had cause to bless this mysterious dispenser of good. If upon -his deathbed a life-long sinner, repenting, may be forgiven his -numberless transgressions, surely a life-long record of noble deeds -may atone for an error prompted by the purest feelings of love. Such a -thought did not enter Aaron's mind; the flattering unction was not for -him. He walked in sorrow and humility, wronging no man, doing good to -many, and faithfully performing his duty to all. At the Judgment Seat -he would know. - -Perhaps of all the institutions in which he took a part, those which -most deeply interested him were the Jewish working men's clubs in the -East End. He was one of their most liberal patrons; their library -shelves were lined with the books he had presented, and he frequently -took the chair at their Sunday evening gatherings. The announcement of -his name was sufficient to crowd the hall; to shake hands with Aaron -Cohen was one of the ambitions of the younger members. When he made -his appearance at these gatherings he felt that he was among friends; -there was a freemasonry among them, as indeed there is among Jews all -the world over. Aaron devoted particular attention to the young -people. He knew that the hope of Judaism lay in the new generation, -and it was his aim to encourage in the minds of the young the pride of -race which engenders self-respect and strengthens racial character. He -regarded old customs as something more than landmarks in his religion; -they were essentials, the keystones of the arch which kept the fabric -together, and he was anxious that they should be preserved. Symbols -are unmeaning to the materialist; to those who have faith they convey -a pregnant message, the origin of which can be traced back to the -first days of creation, when God made man in His own image. They are -the links which unite the past, full of glorious traditions, and the -future, full of Divine hope. Of this past Aaron spoke in words which -stirred the sluggish fires in the hearts of the old, and made them -leap into flame in the hearts of the young. "I have heard," he said, -"of Jews who were ashamed that it should be known that they were Jews; -of Jews who, when Jews were spoken of slightingly in Christian -society, have held their tongues in order that they might perchance -escape from the implied disparagement. I will not stop to inquire -whether this springs from cowardice or sensitiveness, for in either -case it is both wrong and foolish. Lives there any member of an old -historic family who is not proud of the past which has been -transmitted to him as a heritage, who is not conscious that his -lineage sheds a lustre upon the name he bears? Not one. He pores over -the annals of his race, and, pausing at the record of a noble deed -performed, thinks proudly, 'This deed was performed by my ancestor, -and it lives in history.' He takes up a novel or a poem, and reads it -with exultant feelings, as having been inspired by another ancestor -who, mayhap, shed his blood in defence of king and country. Let me -remind you, if you have lost sight of the fact, that there is no -historic family in England or elsewhere the record of whose deeds can -vie in splendour with the record of the Jew. His history is at once a -triumph of brain power and spiritual vitality, and the proudest boast -a Jew can make is that he is a Jew. It is not he who holds the lower -ground; he stands on the heights, a noble among the men who presume to -despise him. Be true to yourselves, and it will not be long before -this is made manifest and universally acknowledged. In personal as -well as in racial history you stand pre-eminent. What greater -schoolman than Maimonides? What greater master of philosophy than -Spinoza? What poets more sublime than Isaiah and Ezekiel? In infamous -Russia Jews who practised their religion in secret have been among its -most eminent ministers of finance, and the glory of Spain departed -when it persecuted our brethren and drove them from the country. The -Disraelis, father and son, were Jews; Benary was a Jew; Neander, the -founder of spiritual Christianity, was a Jew; in Germany the most -celebrated professors of divinity were Jews; Wehl, a Jew, the famous -Arabic scholar, wrote the 'History of Christianity'; the first Jesuits -were Jews; Soult and Messina were Jews; Count Arnim was a Jew; -Auerbach, Pasta, Grisi, Rachel, Sara Bernhardt, Baron Hirsch, the -philanthropist, Meyerbeer, Mendelssohn--all Jews. These are but a few -of the names which occur to me; are you ashamed to be associated with -them? In war, in politics, in philosophy, in finance, in philanthropy, -in exploration and colonisation, in all the arts and professions, you -stand in the front rank. I see in this audience many young men, some -of whom, I believe, are by their talents destined to become famous, -and some to grow rich by their shrewdness and industry. To them I say, -Work and prosper, and work in the right way. Whatever be the channel -they have chosen to the goal they wish to reach, let them work -honestly towards it, and when they stand upon the fairer shore let -them not forget their religion, let them not forget that they owe -their advancement to the intelligent and intellectual forces which -have been transmitted to them by their great ancestors through all the -generations." - -This address was received with enthusiasm, and Aaron's hearers went to -their homes that night stirred to their inmost hearts, and proud of -the faith of their forefathers. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - - WHAT SHALL BE DONE TO THE MAN WHOM THE - KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR? - - -On a bright morning in the autumn of the year 1893 a number of -influential persons wended their way to Aaron Cohen's house to take -part in a function of a peculiarly interesting nature. They comprised -representatives of literature and the arts, of politics, science, and -commerce, and among them were delegates of the press, who were deputed -to report the proceedings for their respective journals. That the pen -is mightier than the sword was open to dispute at an earlier period of -the world's history, but the contention exists no longer, and though -the day is far distant when the lion shall lie down with the lamb, the -press is now a powerful factor in peace and war, and can effectually -hasten or retard the conflict of nations. It is an open question -whether its invasion of the arena of private life is a desirable -feature in the power it wields; but it is useless to resist its march -in this direction, and earnest as may be a man's desire to hide his -light (or the reverse) under a bushel, he does not live to see it -gratified. The up-to-date journalist, argus-eyed, overruns the earth; -it is to be deplored that his quill is sometimes poison-tipped, but as -a rule he sets about his work with good-humoured zest, and it is not -to be denied that he prepares many a piquant dish for his omnivorous -public. - -When a movement was set afoot to make some sort of semi-private, -semi-public recognition of the remarkable position attained by the -hero of this story, he made an effort to discourage it. The idea of -any kind of publicity was distasteful to him, and he expressed an -opinion to this effect. It was not heeded by the organisers of the -testimonial, and he was thinking of remonstrating in stronger terms, -when the matter was settled for him by a few simple words spoken by -Rachel. - -"Why do you object?" she asked. "You did not seek the honour, and it -will reflect honour upon us." - -"Do you wish it, Rachel?" - -"It will give me pleasure, dear," she replied. - -He did not argue with her, but yielded immediately, and allowed -himself to be carried with the stream. Never in the course of their -happy married life had he failed to comply with her lightest wish; -never had there been the least conflict between them; to each of them -the word of the other was law, and it was love's cheerful duty to -obey. - -The esteem in which he was held was to be demonstrated by two -presentations, one a portrait of himself by a famous English artist, -the other a picture also, the subject being withheld from his -knowledge. This second painting was no other than the picture of -Rachel sitting beneath the cherry tree, which had created so much -interest in the Paris _salon_ more than a dozen years ago. It had -originally been purchased by a collector, who had lately died. After -his death his collection had been brought to the hammer, and this -particular picture was purchased by a London dealer, who exhibited it -in his shop. The first intention was to present a silver memorial with -Aaron's portrait, but a friend of his happened to see the French -picture in London, and was struck by the wonderful resemblance of the -principal figure to Rachel. He made inquiries privately of Aaron -respecting his sojourn in the south of France, and learned that there -was a picturesque cherry tree in the grounds at the back of the house, -in the shadow of which Rachel was in the habit of sitting in sunny -weather, that he had a friend, the curé of the village, and that one -summer a French painter had visited the village and had made a number -of sketches of Rachel and the garden. Following up his inquiries, -Aaron's friend obtained from the London dealer some information of the -history of the picture and of the year in which it was exhibited, and, -putting this and that together, he came to the conclusion that Rachel -had unconsciously sat for the picture. It was an interesting -discovery, and the first idea of a silver presentation was put aside, -and the picture substituted in its place. - -Mr. Moss, of course, came from Portsmouth to attend the function. Our -old friend was frequently in London now, to attend to certain -complicated business matters. Sad to say, of late years fortune had -not smiled upon him; he had met with losses, but that did not prevent -him from humming his operatic airs at every possible opportunity. He -had himself to blame for this reverse of fortune; certainly he had a -tremendously large family, sixteen children to rear and provide for, -and eight of them girls--he used to say jocularly that it was -difficult to find names for them; but he had a comfortable business, -and should have been content. Unhappily, one day he had a bright idea; -he made a plunge in stocks, with disastrous results. Had he consulted -Aaron Cohen, as he afterwards confessed, it would never have happened; -Aaron would have shown him the folly of expecting to grow rich in a -week. The consequence was that he found himself involved, and his -frequent visits to London were necessitated by his personal endeavours -to reduce his losses. It made no difference in Aaron's friendship for -him; it may be said, indeed, to have strengthened it. In a time of -more than ordinary difficulty Aaron came forward voluntarily, and -afforded practical assistance to his old friend. "If you want to know -the kind of metal Aaron Cohen is made of," he said to his wife, "go to -him when you are in misfortune. That is the time to prove a man." -Another strengthening tie was to be forged in the firm friendship of -these men. One at least of Mr. Moss's numerous daughters was always in -London on a visit to Rachel, and it was quite in the natural order of -things that Joseph Cohen should fall in love with Esther Moss, the -prettiest and sweetest of all the girls. Rachel and her husband were -very fond of Esther, and regarded the attachment with favour. Joseph -was too young yet to marry, but with the consent of his parents an -engagement was entered into between the young people, and there was -joy in Mr. Moss's estimable family. - -It was a natural consequence of this family arrangement that Esther -was frequently invited to make her home for a time with the Cohens in -London, and she was in their house on the day of the presentations. -Her lover was absent, and had been out of England for some months -past. Young as he was, he already held a position of responsibility in -an extensive firm, and had been sent to Australia to attend to -business of an important nature. He was expected home at the end of -the week, but was then to remain in England only a few days, his -passage to India being taken, his mission being to establish agencies -in that land for the gentleman by whom he was employed. Years ago the -choice of a classical education had been offered him by his father; -but his inclination was for commerce, and Aaron Cohen did not believe -in forcing a lad into a career which was distasteful to him. Upon his -return from India eight or nine months hence the marriage between him -and Esther was to take place. Needless to say how proud and happy the -young maid was in the contemplation of the approaching union. - -Neither was Ruth Cohen a witness of the honour which was paid to the -man she believed to be her father. She had invited herself to -Portsmouth, to spend a week or two with Mrs. Moss. When she expressed -the wish to go Rachel Cohen had remonstrated with her, and hinted that -she should remain in London to attend the presentations; but Ruth was -restless and rebellious, and said she did not care to be present. -Rachel, inwardly grieved, did not press it upon her. - -"Are you not happy at home?" she asked gently. Ruth did not speak, and -Rachel continued, "You do not take pleasure in the society of our -friends?" - -"I am not very fond of them," Ruth replied. - -Rachel said no more. Ruth's dislike of Jewish society was not new to -her; it had caused her great pain, and she had striven in vain to -combat it. The strength of Rachel's character lay in her moral and -sympathetic affections: with those who recognised the sweetness and -unselfishness of these attributes her power was great; with those who -failed to appreciate them she was powerless. This was the case with -Ruth, in whom, as she grew to womanhood, was gradually developed a -stubbornness which boded ill for peace. Frequently and anxiously did -Rachel ask herself, From whom could a daughter of her blood have -inherited views and ideas so antagonistic and rebellious? - -Aaron could have answered this question, had it been put to him, and -had he dared to answer. Ruth's instincts were in her blood, -transmitted by parents whom he had never known, and of whose -characters he was ignorant. Heredity lay at the root of this domestic -misery. As a rule, vices, virtues, and all classes of the affections -are hereditary, and the religious sentiments are not an exception. -Aaron had studied the subject, and was conscious of the solemn issues -dependent upon it. - -He had obtained possession of Ruth's body, but not of her mind, and -even of the former his guardianship would soon be at an end. Although -he could not fix the exact day of her birth, she would soon be -twenty-one years of age, when the duty would devolve upon him of -delivering to her the iron casket of which he had been made the -custodian, and he was in an agony how he should act. Every day that -passed deepened his agony; he saw shadows gathering over his house -which might wreck the happiness of his beloved wife. Again and again -had he debated the matter without being able to arrive at any -comforting conclusion. Undoubtedly the casket contained the secret of -Ruth's parentage; when that was revealed the sword would fall. - -However, he could not on this day give himself up to these disturbing -reflections; he had consented to accept an honour of which he deemed -himself unworthy, and it was incumbent upon him that he should not -betray himself. There was still a little time left to him to decide -upon his course of action. The man of upright mind was at this period -laying himself open to dangerous casuistical temptations. Even from -such unselfish love as he entertained for the wife who was deserving -of love in its sweetest and purest aspects may spring an upas tree to -poison the air we breathe. - -Among the company was an old friend of ours--Dr. Spenlove, who had -attained an eminent position in London. His career from the time he -left Portsmouth had been a remarkable one. In the larger field of -labour to which he had migrated his talents were soon recognised, and -he began almost at once to mount the ladder of renown. Success in the -medical profession is seldom gained upon an insecure foundation; there -must be some solid justification for it, and once secured it lasts a -lifetime. Dr. Spenlove was no exception to the rule, and was not -spoilt by prosperity. He was still distinguished by that kindliness of -nature which had made his name a household word in the humble -neighbourhood in Portsmouth in which he had struggled and suffered. -The poor never appealed to him in vain, and he was as attentive to -those who could not afford to pay him as to those from whom he drew -heavy fees. Many a time did he step from his carriage to a garret in -which lay a poor sufferer whose fortunes were at the lowest ebb, and -many a trembling hand which held a few poor coins was gently put aside -with tender and cheerful words which were never forgotten by those to -whom they were spoken. - -A man so kindly-hearted was of necessity associated with the -benevolent and public movements of the passing hour. Aaron Cohen, whom -till this day he had not met, had subscribed to some of the charities -in which he was interested, and he gladly availed himself of the -opportunity of becoming acquainted with him. When the company were -assembled in the reception room in Aaron's house, Dr. Spenlove -happened to be standing next to Mr. Moss, whom he had not seen since -he left Portsmouth. Except for the wear and tear of time, which, -however, did not sit heavily upon him, there was little alteration in -Mr. Moss; his worldly anxieties had not dimmed the brightness of his -eyes, nor robbed his countenance of its natural cheerful aspect. There -was a greater alteration in Dr. Spenlove; the thoughtful lines in his -face had deepened, there was an introspection in his eyes. Mr. Moss -seemed to be for ever looking upon the outer world, Dr. Spenlove for -ever looking upon his inner self. As an observer of character Mr. Moss -was Dr. Spenlove's superior; as a student and searcher after truth Dr. -Spenlove towered above Mr. Moss. The man of business never forgot a -face; the man of science often did. The first sign of recognition, -therefore, came from Mr. Moss. - -"Good day, Dr. Spenlove." - -The physician looked up, and said, abstractedly, "Good day." He -frequently acknowledged a salute from persons whose names he could not -at the moment recall. - -"You do not remember me," said Mr. Moss, with a smile. - -"You will pardon me," said Dr. Spenlove, searching his memory; "I have -an unfortunate failing----" - -"Of forgetting faces," said Mr. Moss, with a smile. "It is very stupid -of me." - -"Not at all; one can't help it. Besides, it is so long since we -met--over twenty years." - -"In London?" - -"No; in Portsmouth, the night before you left. We had an adventure -together----" - -"You quicken my memory. How do you do, Mr. Moss?" - -They shook hands. - -"Very well, thank you, and happy to see you again. I have heard a -great deal of you, doctor; you are at the top of the ladder now. It is -strange, after the lapse of years, that we should meet in this house." - -"Why is our meeting in this house strange?" inquired Dr. Spenlove. - -The question recalled Mr. Moss to himself. The one incident which -formed a link between them was that connected with a wretched woman -and her babe whom they had rescued from impending death on a snowy -night long ago in the past. But he had not made Dr. Spenlove -acquainted with the name of the man to whom he had entrusted the -child, and upon this point his lips were sealed. - -"I mean," he said, "that the circumstances of our meeting here and in -Portsmouth are so different." - -"Widely different. Varied as have been my experiences, I have met with -none more thrilling than that in which we were both engaged on that -eventful night. I have not forgotten your kindness, Mr. Moss. I trust -the world has prospered with you." - -"So-so. We all have our ups and downs. Health is the main thing, and -that we enjoy. Doctors have a bad time with us." - -"I am glad to hear it. By the way, Mr. Moss, my part of the adventure -came to an end on the day I left Portsmouth; you had still something -to do. Did you succeed in finding a comfortable home for the child?" - -"Yes." - -"Did you lose sight of her after that?" - -"Very soon. Before she had been in her new home twenty-four hours the -poor thing died." - -"Dear, dear! But I am not surprised. It was hardly to be expected that -the child would live long after the exposure on such a bitter night. -She was almost buried in the snow. It was, most likely, a happy -release. And the mother, Mr. Moss?" - -"I have heard nothing of her whatever." - -The conversation ceased here. The proceedings had commenced, and a -gentleman was speaking. He was a man of discretion, which all orators -are not. He touched lightly and pertinently upon the reputation which -Mr. Aaron Cohen had earned by his unremitting acts of benevolence and -by the worthiness of his career. Such a man deserved the good fortune -which had attended him, and such a man's career could not fail to be -an incentive to worthy endeavour. Rachel, seated by her husband, -turned her sightless eyes upon the audience and listened to the -speaker with gratitude and delight. It was not that she had waited for -this moment to learn that she was wedded to an upright and noble man, -but it was an unspeakable happiness to her to hear from the lips of -others that he was appreciated as he deserved, that he was understood -as she understood him. It was natural, said the speaker, that the -gentleman in whose honour they had that day assembled should be held -in the highest esteem by his co-religionists, but it was a glory that -in a Christian country a Jew should have won from all classes of a -mixed community a name which would be enrolled upon those pages of our -social history which most fitly represent the march of true -civilisation and humanity. They were not there to glorify Money; they -were not there to glorify worldly prosperity; they were there to pay -tribute to one whose example Christians well might follow, to a man -without stain, without reproach. The influence of such a man in -removing--no, not in removing, but obliterating--the prejudices of -caste was lasting and all-powerful. He regarded it as a privilege that -he had been deputed to express the general sentiment with respect to -Mr. Aaron Cohen. This sentiment, he begged to add, was not confined to -Mr. Cohen, but included his wife, whose charities and benevolence were -perhaps even more widely known and recognised than those of the -partner of her joys and sorrows. In the presence of this estimable -couple it was difficult to speak as freely as he would wish, but he -was sure they would understand that in wishing them long life and -happiness he was wishing them much more than he dared to express in -their hearing, and that there was but one feeling entertained towards -them, a feeling not of mere respect and esteem, but of affection and -love. In the name of the subscribers he offered for their acceptance -two paintings, one a portrait of Mr. Cohen by an artist of renown, for -which he had been good enough to sit, the other a painting which -probably they would look upon now for the first time. The latter -picture was an accidental discovery, but Mr. Cohen would tell them -whether they were right in seizing the opportunity to obtain it, and -whether they were right in their belief that his esteemed wife had -unconsciously inspired the artist who had availed himself of a happy -chance to immortalise himself. - -The pictures were then unveiled amid general acclamation, and if ever -Rachel wished for the blessing of sight to be restored to her it was -at that moment; but it was only for a moment. The dependence she -placed upon her husband, the trust she had in him, the pleasure she -derived from his eloquent and sympathetic descriptions of what was -hidden from her, were of such a nature that she sometimes said inly, -"I am thankful I can see only through the eyes of my dear husband." - -The portrait of himself, from his frequent sittings, was familiar to -Aaron Cohen, but the picture of his beloved sitting beneath the cherry -tree was a delightful surprise to him. It was an exquisitely painted -scene, and Rachel's portrait was as faithful as if she had given -months of her time towards its successful accomplishment. - -Aaron's response was happy up to a certain point. Except to pay a -deserved compliment to the artist and to express his gratitude to the -subscribers, he said little about the portrait of himself. The -presentation of the second picture supplied the theme for the -principal part of his speech. He said there was no doubt that it was a -portrait of his dear wife, and he recalled the time they had passed in -the south of France, and described all the circumstances of the -intimacy with the artist which had led to the painting of the picture. -He was grateful for that intimacy because of its result, which he saw -before him, and because of the pleasure it would afford his beloved -wife, who, until to-day, had been as ignorant as himself that such a -painting was in existence. "I went to the south of France," he said, -"in the hope that my wife, who was in a delicate state of health, -would be benefited by a short stay there. My hope was more than -realised; she grew strong there; my son, whose absence from England -deprives him of the pleasure of being present on this interesting -occasion, was born there, and there the foundation of my prosperity -was laid. It might be inferred from this that I believe all the events -of a man's life are ruled by chance, but such is not my belief. There -is an all-seeing Providence who shows us the right path; He speaks -through our reason and our consciences, and except for the accident of -birth, which lays a heavy burden upon many unfortunate beings, and -which should render them not fully responsible for the evil they do, -we ourselves are responsible for the consequences of our actions. We -must accept the responsibility and the consequences." He paused a few -moments before he continued. "When men of fair intelligence err they -err consciously; it is idle for them to say that they erred in -ignorance of the consequences. They must know, if they write with -black ink, that their writing must be black." He paused again. "But it -may be that a man commits a conscious error through his affections, -and if that error inflicts injury upon no living being--if it even -confer a benefit upon one or more--there may be some palliation of his -error. In stating that you set for me a standard too high I am stating -my firm belief. No man is stainless, no man is without reproach; the -doctrine of infallibility applied to human affairs is monstrous and -wicked; it is an arrogation of Divine power. I am, as all men are, -open to error; in my life, as in the lives of all men, there have been -mistakes; but I may still take the credit to myself that if I have -committed a conscious error it has harmed no living soul, and that it -has sprung from those affections which sweeten and bless our lives. A -reference has been made to my being a Jew. I glory that I am one. The -traditions and history of the race to which I am proud to belong have -been of invaluable service to me, and to the circumstance of my being -a Jew I owe the incidents of this day, which will be ever a proud -memory to me and to my family. In the name of my dear wife and my own -I thank you cordially, sincerely and gratefully for the honour you -have paid to us--an honour not beyond my wife's merits, but far beyond -my own." - -Other speeches followed, and when the proceedings were at an end Dr. -Spenlove asked Mr. Moss to introduce him to Mr. Cohen. - -"Cohen," said Mr. Moss, "Dr. Spenlove wishes to be introduced to you. -He practised in Portsmouth twenty years ago." - -Aaron started. He never forgot a name or a face, and he recollected -the mention of Dr. Spenlove's name when Mr. Moss came to him in -Gosport with the child. - -"Without exactly knowing it, perhaps," said Dr. Spenlove, "you have -been most kind in movements in which I have taken an interest. I am -glad of the opportunity of making your acquaintance." - -Nothing more; no reference to the private matter. Aaron breathed more -freely. He responded to Dr. Spenlove's advances, and the gentlemen -parted friends. - -Mr. Moss had been somewhat puzzled by Aaron's speech. It seemed to him -that his friend did not place sufficient value on himself. "People are -always ready to take you at your own price, so don't be too modest," -was a favourite saying of his. Then what did Aaron mean by letting -people suppose that he had done something wrong in his life? He spoke -about it to Aaron. - -"Look back," said Aaron, laying his hand kindly on Mr. Moss's -shoulder, "and tell me if you do not recollect some action which you -would gladly recall." - -"I daresay, I daresay," said Mr. Moss, restlessly, "but what's the use -of confessing it when there's no occasion? It's letting yourself -down." - -Aaron turned to greet another friend, and the subject was dropped; but -it remained, nevertheless, in Mr. Moss's mind. - -His daughter Esther was in the room during the proceedings, and her -fair young face beamed with pride; it was her lover's father who was -thus honoured, and she felt that she had, through Aaron Cohen's son, a -share in that honour. When the gratifying but fatiguing labours of the -day were at an end, and Aaron, Rachel, and Esther were alone, Rachel -said,-- - -"I am sorry, dear Esther, that Joseph was not here to hear what was -said about his father." - -"It would not have made him love and honour him more," said Esther. - -Rachel pressed her hand and kissed her; she had grown to love this -sweet and simple girl, who seemed to have but one thought in life--her -lover. Then the sightless woman asked them to describe the pictures to -her, and she listened in an ecstasy of happiness to their words. - -"Is it not wonderful?" she said to Aaron. "A famous picture, they -said, and I the principal figure. What can the painter have seen in -me?" - -"What all men see, my life," replied Aaron; "but what no one knows as -I know." - -"It has been a happy day," sighed Rachel; she sat between them, each -holding a hand. "You did not hear from our dear Ruth this morning?" - -"No, dear mother." For thus was Esther already permitted to address -Rachel. - -"She will be home in two days, and our dear lad as well. I wish he -were back from India, even before he has started, and so do you, my -dear. But time soon passes. Just now it seems but yesterday that we -were in France." - -The day waned. Rachel and Esther were together; Aaron was in his study -writing, and preparing for an important meeting he had to attend that -night. A servant entered. - -"A gentleman to see you, sir." - -Aaron looked at the card, which bore the name of Mr. Richard -Dillworthy. - -"I am busy," said Aaron. "Does he wish to see me particularly? Ask him -if he can call again." - -"He said his business was pressing, sir." - -"Show him in." - -The servant ushered the visitor into the room, a slightly-built, -middle-aged man, with iron-grey hair and whiskers. Aaron motioned him -to a chair, and he placed a card on the table, bearing the name and -address of a firm of lawyers. - -"I am Mr. Dillworthy, of Dillworthy, Maryx, and Co.," he said. - -"Yes?" - -"I have come to speak to you upon a family matter----" - -"A family matter!" exclaimed Aaron, interrupting him. "Does it concern -me?" - -"It concerns you closely, and the client on whose behalf I am here." - -"What is its nature?" - -"Allow me to disclose it in my own way. I shall take it as a favour if -you will regard this interview as private." - -"Certainly." - -"Briefly, I may say, as an introduction, that it refers to your -daughter, Miss Ruth Cohen." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - - THE HONOURABLE PERCY STORNDALE. - - -For the second time on this eventful day Aaron felt as if his sin were -about to be brought home to him, as if the temple which, by long years -of honourable and upright conduct, he had built for himself, were -about to crumble to dust. In that temple was enshrined not only his -good name, but what was far more precious to him, his wife's happiness -and peace of mind. He had not yet nerved himself to the effort to go -to her frankly and say, "Ruth is not our child." Out of Rachel's -innate goodness and sweetness sprang the love she bore for the young -girl. The suggestion of love may come from without, but the spirit of -love is the offspring of one's own heart, and it is made enduring and -ennobling by one's own higher qualities; and in a like manner it is -one's lower passions which debase and degrade it. In whatever fashion -Rachel would receive her husband's confession, he knew full well that -it would inflict upon her the most exquisite suffering; the cherished -ideal of her life would be shattered, and she would sit for ever -afterwards in sackcloth and ashes. This was his torturing belief; it -was not that he dreaded exposure for his own sake; he had no wish to -spare himself, but to spare Rachel inevitable suffering. He knew that -the truth could not be much longer hidden, and yet he was too weak to -take the deciding step. He had sown a harvest of woe, and his constant -fervent prayer was that he might not be compelled to reap it with his -own hands. - -Agitated as he was, he did not betray himself by word or sign, but by -a courteous movement of his hand invited his visitor to proceed. - -"It is a family matter," said Mr. Dillworthy, "of a peculiarly -delicate nature, and my client thought it could best be arranged in a -private personal interview." - -"Being of such a nature," observed Aaron, "would it not have been -better that it should be arranged privately between the parties -interested instead of through an intermediary?" - -"Possibly, possibly; but my client holds strong views, and feels he -could scarcely trust himself." - -"Favour me with the name of your client." - -"Lord Storndale." - -"Lord Storndale? I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance." - -"But you are familiar with his name." - -"Not at all. It is the first time I have heard it." - -"You surprise me. Lord Storndale is a peer." - -"I know very few peers, and have had no occasion to study the -peerage." - -"But, pardon me, Storndale is the name; it may have escaped you." - -"I repeat, the name is strange to me." - -"I do not presume to doubt you, but it introduces a new element into -the matter. Your daughter, then, has never mentioned the Honourable -Percy Storndale to you?" - -"Never, and I am at a loss to understand the association of their -names." - -The lawyer paused. In this unexpected turn of affairs a deviation -suggested itself to his legal mind which would be likely to assist -him. - -"Mr. Cohen, you have the reputation of being an earnest and sincere -Jew." - -"I follow the precepts and the obligations of my faith," said Aaron, -with a searching glance at his visitor. - -"In this back-sliding and time-serving age orthodoxy--especially, I -should say, in the Jewish religion--has a hard time of it. The customs -and duties of an enlightened civilisation must clash severely with the -precepts and obligations you speak of. It is because of the -difficulty--perhaps the impossibility--of following the hard and fast -laws of the Pentateuch that divisions have taken place, as in all -religions, and that you have among you men who call themselves -Reformed Jews." - -"Surely it is not part of your mission to debate this matter with me," -said Aaron, who had no desire to discuss these questions with a -stranger. - -"No, it is not, and I do not pretend to understand it; but in a -general way the subject is interesting to me. If you will permit me, I -should like to ask you one question." Aaron signified assent. "What is -your opinion of mixed marriages?" - -Aaron did not answer immediately; he had a suspicion that there was -something behind, but the subject was one regarding which both he and -Rachel held a strong view, and he felt he would be guilty of an -unworthy evasion if he refused to reply. - -"I do not approve of them," he said. - -"You set me at ease," said the lawyer, "and it will gratify Lord -Storndale to hear that you and he are in agreement upon the question. -As our interview is private I may speak freely. Unhappily, Lord -Storndale is a poor peer. Since he came into the title he has had -great difficulties to contend with, and as his estates lay chiefly in -Ireland these difficulties have been of late years increased. Happily -or unhappily, also, he has a large family, two daughters and six sons. -Of these sons the Honourable Percy Storndale is the youngest. I do not -know who is more to be pitied, a poor peer struggling with mortgages, -decreased rents, and the expenses of a large family, or a younger son -who comes into the world with the expectation that he is to be -provided for, and whose father can allow him at the utmost two hundred -and fifty or three hundred a year. Father and son have both to keep up -appearances, and the son's allowance will scarcely pay his tailor's -and his glover's bills. There are a thousand things he wants, and to -which he believes himself entitled. Flowers, horses, clubs, a stall at -the theatre, and so on and so on, _ad infinitum_. The consequence is -that the young gentleman gets into debt, which grows and grows. -Perhaps he thinks of a means of paying his creditors--he plunges on a -horse, he plays for high stakes at his club. You know the result. Into -the mire, deeper and deeper. A sad picture, Mr. Cohen." - -"Very sad," said Aaron, who had listened patiently, and knew that the -crucial part of the lawyer's mission--that which affected himself and -Ruth--had not yet been reached. - -"Lord Storndale," continued the lawyer, "is a gentleman of exclusive -views, and is perhaps prouder in his poverty than he would be with a -rent-roll of a hundred thousand a year. His son's extravagances and -debts are not hidden from his knowledge--the moneylenders take care of -that. From time to time, and at a great sacrifice, he extricates the -young scapegrace from temporary difficulties, but at length he comes -to a full stop. His own means are exhausted, and willing as he may be -to keep putting his hand in his pocket, it is useless to do so, -because the pocket is empty. But he has some influence in a small way, -and he obtains for his son the offer of a post in the colonies; not -very grand certainly, but affording an opening which may lead to -something better, if the young gentleman will only condescend to look -at life seriously--which, as a rule, such young fellows decline to do -until it is too late. However, a father, whether he be a peer or a -common labourer, can do no more than his duty. He informs his son of -the appointment he has obtained for him, and the scapegrace--I am -speaking quite openly, Mr. Cohen; the Honourable Percy Storndale _is_ -one--declines to accept it. 'Why?' asks the astonished father. 'I -cannot live on it,' replies the son. Then the father points out how he -can live on it by cutting down some of his extravagances, and that he -may find opportunities in the colonies which he can never meet with -here. The son remains obdurate. 'There is another reason for your -refusal,' says the father. 'There is,' the son admits. 'I prefer to -remain in London; it is the only city in the world worth living in.' -'And starving in,' suggests the father. The scapegrace shrugs his -shoulders, and says something will turn up here, and that he will not -submit to banishment because he happens to have been born a few years -too late--a reflection upon his brother, the eldest son, who in course -of time will inherit the family embarrassments and mortgages. The -father remonstrates, argues, entreats, but the young man will not give -way. Meanwhile the appointment is bestowed upon another and a worthier -gentleman, and the chance is lost. I trust I am not wearying you." - -"No. I am attending to all you say, and waiting to hear how my -daughter's name comes to be mixed up with the family history you are -giving me." - -"You will understand everything presently. My object is to make the -matter perfectly clear, and to have no concealment. For this reason I -wish you to be aware of the character of the young gentleman, and -I am describing it carefully at the express wish of his father. At the -same time I lay no positive charge against him; I am not saying he is -a bad man, but an undesirable man. There are thousands of young -fellows who are living just such a careless, irresponsible, reckless -life, who get into debt, who gamble, and who ultimately find -themselves passing through the bankruptcy court. Young men without -balance, Mr. Cohen, and who, in consequence, topple over. They sow -trouble wherever they go, and they are always smiling, self-possessed, -and pleasant-mannered. Women especially are caught by these externals; -but speaking myself as the father of grown-up daughters, I should be -sorry to see one of that class visiting my house as a suitor to one of -my girls." - -Aaron started, but did not speak. - -"Lord Storndale suspected that there was another reason which his son -had not mentioned for his refusal of the colonial appointment, and in -a short time his suspicions were confirmed. It came to his knowledge -that his son was paying attentions to a young lady whom he was in the -habit of meeting at garden parties and tennis, and probably by -arrangement in the parks, and he taxed the young gentleman with it. -His son did not deny it; he said that he loved the lady, that her -father was very wealthy, and that she was in every way presentable. 'I -do not know,' said the young man, 'whether the circumstance of her -father being a commoner will prejudice you against him.' Lord -Storndale replied that he would have preferred his son had chosen from -his own rank, but that marriages between rich commoners and members of -the aristocracy were not unusual in these days, and that he would -sanction the match if the lady's father were a gentleman. To be honest -with you, Mr. Cohen, Lord Storndale has no liking for commoners who -have made fortunes in trade or by speculating; but he did not allow -these scruples to weigh with him, his hope being that the proposed -union would be the means of extricating his son from his difficulties, -and of steadying him. The young man said that the lady's father was a -gentleman widely known for his benevolence and uprightness of -character, and that he was held in universal esteem. Up to this point -the interview had been of an amicable nature, but then arose an -insurmountable difficulty. 'Who is the gentleman?' inquired Lord -Storndale. 'Mr. Aaron Cohen,' replied the young man." - -Observing Aaron's agitation the lawyer suspended his narration, and -said,-- - -"Pardon me; you were about to speak." - -Aaron by a great effort controlled himself. - -"I will wait till you have quite finished, Mr. Dillworthy. Before I -commit myself it will be as well that I should be in possession of all -the facts." - -"Quite so. I have been explicit and circumstantial in order that there -shall be no mistake. When I have finished you will have few, if any, -questions to ask, because you will know everything it is in my power -to tell. Upon hearing your name, his lordship remarked that it was a -Jewish name. 'Yes,' said the young man, 'Mr. Cohen is a Jew.' Lord -Storndale was angry and distressed. I admit that it is an unreasonable -prejudice; but he has an invincible dislike to Jews, and it shocked -him to think that his son contemplated a marriage with a Jewess. I -need dwell no longer upon the interview, which now took a stormy turn, -and it ended by the son abruptly leaving the room. On no account, -whatever, Mr. Cohen, will Lord Storndale or any member of his family -consent to such an alliance; if it is accomplished the young man will -be thrown upon his own resources, and his wife will not be recognised -by his kinsfolk. The trouble has already reached a climax. The young -gentleman is hot-headed--a Storndale failing--and he declines to -listen to remonstrances; the consequence is, that he has been -forbidden his father's home till he comes to reason. But despite his -extravagances and the constant and perplexing involvements issuing -therefrom, his father has an affection for him, and is bent upon -saving his family from----" - -The lawyer pausing here, with an awkward cough, as though he was -choking down a word, Aaron quietly added it. - -"Disgrace?" - -"Well, yes," said Mr. Dillworthy, briskly; "we will not mince matters. -It is not my word, but Lord Storndale's. He would account such an -alliance a disgrace. I will say nothing in his excuse. In all -civilised countries we have living evidences of happy unions between -members of the aristocracy and wealthy daughters of Israel, and also -living evidences of happy mixed marriages between persons neither -aristocratic nor wealthy; and these might be brought forward as -powerful arguments against the view my client entertains. But they -would have no weight with him. We must take into consideration the -pride of race." - -"Yes," said Aaron, still speaking in a quiet tone, "we must take that -into consideration. You have not quite finished, sir?" - -"Not quite. As a last resource, Lord Storndale consulted me, and -entrusted me with a painful task. He requested me to call upon you, -and represent the matter in the plainest terms, which I have -endeavoured to do, omitting or concealing no single incident of the -unhappy affair. I am deputed to ask you to take a course with your -daughter similar to that he has taken with his son--that is, to -absolutely forbid the union. The young gentleman is in a state of -extreme pecuniary embarrassment, and it is possible--I do not state it -as a fact, but merely as a presumption--that he reckons upon your aid -to settle with his creditors. When he finds that this aid will not be -forthcoming, and that he cannot depend upon your making a suitable -settlement upon your daughter, he is not unlikely, for prudential -reasons, to beat a retreat." - -"What is the inference you wish me to draw from this expression of -opinion?" - -"That Mr. Storndale is following your daughter for your money." - -"And that he has no love for her?" - -The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. The interview was taking a turn not -exactly pleasing to him. - -"You are not flattering the young gentleman," Aaron said. - -"I had no intention of doing so. Of course, it is for you to consider -the matter from your own point of view. First, as a father----" - -He paused. - -"Yes, first as a father," repeated Aaron. - -"Next, as a Jew." - -"Yes, next as a Jew," said Aaron, again repeating the lawyer's words. - -He was agitated by conflicting emotions, which no man but he could -have understood--and which, indeed, in the light of the revelation -which had been made, he himself could scarcely grasp, so strongly did -it affect the secret of his life. But that secret still was his, and -he had still to play his part. - -"You are commissioned to take my answer to Lord Storndale?" - -"He is anxiously awaiting it." - -"I may trust you to convey that answer as nearly as possible in my own -words?" - -"It shall be my endeavour." - -"You will tell him, then, that the mission with which he has entrusted -you comes upon me as a surprise. As I have already informed you, I -have never, until this day, heard his name or the name of his son. As -to the character you give the young gentleman, it may or may not be -correct, for you speak of him as an advocate on the other side----" - -"But surely," interrupted the lawyer, "that would not affect the -religious aspect of the question." - -"No, it would not affect it. But whether correct or not, it seems -clear that the young gentleman has not acted as a man of honour, -although he is Lord Storndale's son. A young girl's trustfulness and -innocence should be her safeguard; but here they have been basely -used, according to your own statement, by a man whose external -accomplishments have unhappily attracted her." - -"And from such a man," said the lawyer, rather too eagerly, "it is a -fathers duty to protect his daughter." - -"Undoubtedly," replied Aaron, who could not dispute the lawyer's -reasoning. "That my wife and I should have been kept in ignorance of -Mr. Storndale's attentions is to be deplored; and it appears certain -that he must have bound Miss Cohen by a promise to say nothing to us -about them. You speak of the pride of race as affecting Lord -Storndale. We have also that pride, and if any Jewish parent were so -far forgetful of the obligations of his faith as to admit your -client's son into his family, it is upon him and upon Lord Storndale -that honour would be conferred." - -"It is a fair retort," said the lawyer. "I beg you to believe that the -views I have expressed are not mine, but Lord Storndale's, in whose -interests I am acting. I am, as you say, an advocate--merely a -mouthpiece, as it were--and I am bound to follow out my instructions. -Your disapproval of mixed marriages gives me confidence that my -mission has not failed, and it will be a satisfaction to Lord -Storndale. May I take it that you will pursue the course with your -daughter that he has taken with his son, and that you will forbid the -union?" - -"Have I not made myself sufficiently clear?" asked Aaron, with an -inward rebellion against the evasion he felt himself compelled to -practise. - -"Yes, yes," said the lawyer, hastily, too astute to press for precise -words. "And I may inform Lord Storndale that you distinctly disapprove -of marriages between Jews and Christians?" - -"You may." - -Mr. Dillworthy, believing he had gained his point, wisely dropped the -subject, and expressing his obligations to Aaron, rose to take his -departure. Before he reached the door, however, he turned, and in a -tone of courteous deference, asked if Mr. Cohen could spare him a few -moments more. Aaron assenting, the lawyer resumed his seat, and taking -a pocket-book from his pocket searched in it for a letter. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - - THE SPIRIT OF THE DEAD PAST. - - -Aaron observed him anxiously. The disclosure that had already been -made had so agitated him that he was apprehensive of further trouble. - -"Ah! here it is," said the lawyer, opening the letter for which he had -been looking; "I was afraid I had left it behind me. Excuse me a -moment; I wish to refresh my memory." - -He ran his eye over the letter, and nodded as he went through its -points of importance. - -"Does it concern the unhappy affair we have discussed?" inquired -Aaron, unable to restrain his impatience. - -"No," replied the lawyer; "I take it that is settled, and I trust, for -the sake of both the families, that it will not be re-opened." - -"I trust not." - -"This is quite a different matter, and I hardly know how to excuse -myself for troubling you with it. It is a sudden thought, for I came -here with no such intention. You must thank your own reputation for -it, Mr. Cohen; it is well known that you have never neglected an -opportunity to do an act of kindness, and though what I am about to -speak of has come to me in the way of business, the story contains -elements so romantic and peculiar that it has strangely attracted me. -The reference in the letter which induces me to think that you may be -able to help me is that you are a gentleman of influence in your -community, and have a wide acquaintance with your co-religionists. -Perhaps I had better read the words. My correspondent says--'I know -that there are peculiar difficulties in the search I intend to make -upon my return home, but before my arrival you may be able to discover -something which will be of assistance to me. Probably if you consult -some kind-hearted and influential member of the Jewish race you may, -through him, obtain a clue; or, failing this, you might employ a -Jewish agent to make inquiries.' It is a lady who writes to me, and -her letter comes from Australia. May I continue? Thank you. Let me -tell you the story; it will interest you, and I will be as brief as -possible. The letter is too long to read throughout." He handed it to -Aaron. "It occupies, you see, fourteen closely written pages, and it -is somewhat in the nature of a confession. If you wish, I will have a -copy of it made, and will send it on to you to-morrow." - -Aaron, turning over the pages, came to the superscription: - - "I remain, - "Yours truly, - "Mary Gordon." - - -Truly this was a day of startling surprises to him. He recollected the -name as that of the gentleman for whom, twenty years ago, Mr. Moss had -undertaken the commission which had lifted him from beggary by placing -in his hands a large sum of money to which in strict justice he was -not entitled, but which, from fear that the deception he had practised -might otherwise be discovered, he was compelled to accept. He had, as -an atonement, expended in secret charities a hundred times the sum; -but this did not absolve him from the responsibility. The spirit of -the dead past rose before him, and he was overwhelmed with the dread -possibilities it brought with it. - -"I fear," said the lawyer, "that I have been inconsiderate in -introducing the matter at the present moment. I will postpone it to a -future occasion." - -"Pray continue," said Aaron, whose burning desire now was to know the -worst. "I have had an exciting day, but I will pay due attention to -what you wish to impart to me." - -"I appreciate your kindness. If you cannot assist me, you may -recommend me to an agent whom I will employ. I noticed that you -referred in the letter to the name of my correspondent, Mrs. Gordon; -the inquiry is of a delicate nature, and it may be her wish that her -name is not too freely mentioned--at all events, for the present. Her -story is not an uncommon one, but it takes an extraordinary and -unusual turn. She is now, according to her own account, a lady of -considerable means; her husband has lately died, and she has come into -a fortune. Some twenty odd years ago she was a young woman, and had -two lovers, one of whom wooed her with dishonourable intentions, and -by him she was betrayed. This occurred during the absence in Australia -of the gentleman who had proposed to her, and whom she had accepted. -He was a resident in Australia, and it was his intention to make his -home there. While he was on his way to England, with the intention of -making her his wife and returning with her to the colony, she -discovered that she was about to become a mother. In despair she fled -from London, where he expected to find her, and sought to hide her -shame among strangers. The place she selected was Portsmouth, and -there she went through a series of harrowing trials, and was reduced -to extreme poverty. In her letter to me she makes no effort to -disguise the misery into which she was plunged, and she is frank and -outspoken in order that I may properly understand how it was that she -was forced to abandon the child that was born in Portsmouth under most -distressing circumstances. For it appears that when the suitor who -wooed her honourably arrived in London and learned the story of her -betrayal, he was still desirous to make her his wife. He traced her to -Portsmouth, and found her there with her babe, who was then but a few -days old. This would have induced most men to forego their honourable -intentions; but Mr. Gordon, whose name she now bears, was an exception -to the rule, and, through a gentleman who acted as a go-between, he -made a singular proposition to her. It was to the effect that she -should consent to give up her child entirely, and during his lifetime -to make no effort to recover it; he undertook to find a respectable -and comfortable home for the babe, and to make a liberal provision for -it. This is the bare outline of his proposition, and I need not go -further into it. So desperate was her position that she and her child -at the time were literally starving; she had not a friend but Mr. -Gordon, who was stern in his resolve not to befriend her unless she -accepted the conditions he dictated; the gentleman who acted as a -go-between had behaved very kindly to her, but could not assist her -further. In these circumstances she made the sacrifice, and parted -with her child, who from that day to this she has never seen. Mr. -Gordon honourably fulfilled the terms of the agreement; a home was -found for the child, and he married the lady, and took her to -Australia, where she has resided for the last twenty years. It was -part of the agreement that she should not be informed of the name of -the people who adopted the child, and should not, directly or -indirectly, make the least endeavour to obtain any information -concerning it while her husband was alive. If he died before her she -was free to act as she pleased in the matter. This has occurred, and -the widow, who has had no children by her marriage, is bent upon -recovering her child, who, I may mention, is a girl. The task is beset -with difficulties, and may prove hopeless. Shortly stated, Mr. Cohen, -this is the case as it at present stands." - -"Is there a special reason," inquired Aaron, "for your applying to me -for assistance?" - -"Not exactly special; it is in a sense accidental, inspired by my -visit this evening on the other matter we have spoken of. There are -certain particulars in relation to Mrs. Gordon's search for her -daughter which I have omitted. The arrangements for the future -provision of the babe were carried out, I understand, by a firm of -lawyers whose names Mrs. Gordon has been unable to ascertain; but she -is acquainted with the name of the gentleman who in Portsmouth -conveyed Mr. Gordon's proposition to her. This gentleman is Dr. -Spenlove, who, leaving Portsmouth several years ago, has attained an -eminent position in London. You may be acquainted with him." - -"He was at my house to-day." - -"Then you are on terms of intimacy with him." - -"No. We met to-day for the first time." - -"In her letter Mrs. Gordon refers me to Dr. Spenlove, and I have not -yet communicated with him. The letter only reached me this morning, -and I have not had time to see him." - -"You have not explained why you apply to me." - -"The explanation is simple. During her husband's lifetime Mrs. Gordon -faithfully carried out her obligation, and, as it appears to me, no -words passed between them on the subject of the child. In his last -moments, however, he must have relented; unfortunately, he left it too -late to give his wife the information she so eagerly desired; he could -scarcely articulate, and all she could gather from him was that he had -employed an agent to look after the child, and that this agent was of -the Jewish persuasion. The conclusion is that he was a resident of -Portsmouth, but he may not be living; and it has occurred to me that -you, who have friends of your persuasion everywhere, may expedite the -discovery by giving me the name and address of some old inhabitant who -can put us on the track of Mr. Gordon's agent. When the lady arrives -in England she will naturally go to Dr. Spenlove, who will doubtless -assist her in her natural endeavour to obtain intelligence of the fate -of her child. If you can also assist us you will earn a mother's -gratitude." - -"I will consider it," said Aaron, and his voice was troubled; "that is -all I can promise at present." - -"It is all we can expect of you. There is another peculiar feature in -this strange case. Mrs. Gordon, before she left England, entrusted Dr. -Spenlove with a metal casket in which she had deposited some memorials -of interest; this casket was to be given to the man who undertook to -bring up the child, on the understanding that it was to be handed to -the young lady at the age of twenty-one (supposing, of course, that -she lived to that age), or before that time to be returned to the -mother if she came to claim it. The young lady, if she be living, is -not yet twenty-one, and it is the mother's intention to recover this -casket, if it be possible. It is to be hoped it fell into the hands of -an honest man." - -"It is to be hoped so," said Aaron, mechanically. - -Mr. Dillworthy said in a kind tone, "It is not an opportune time to -seek your aid in a cause in which you are not personally interested, -when another subject, the welfare of a dear daughter, engrosses your -attention. Pray forgive me, Mr. Cohen." - -Aaron bent his head, and as the lawyer closed the door behind him, -sank back in his chair with a heavy sigh. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI. - - BEFORE ALL, DUTY. - - -He sat silent for many minutes, his mind in a state of chaos; but -presently his native strength of character came to his aid, and he -resumed the task which the entrance of Mr. Dillworthy had interrupted! -In addition to the important meeting he had to attend that night, his -presence was expected at the board of a Jewish charity, of which he -was the founder. This meeting came first, and his colleagues could not -proceed to business without him; he must not disappoint them. Before -all, duty. The thought shaped itself in whispered words, which he -repeated again and again, and their iteration brought to him a sense -of their true significance. Duty had been a leading principle of his -life, and in the part he had taken in public matters he had never -neglected it, and had never studied his personal convenience. But he -had now to consider the principle in its most comprehensive aspect, -and he felt that its application to his private affairs was imperative -in the conflicting interests in which he was engaged. This being so, -what was his duty here at home in respect of his wife and the girl he -had brought up as their daughter, and how should he perform it? Love -played so vital a part in the consideration of this question that he -could not thrust it aside. It was, indeed, its leading element. For -years past he had lived in a fool's paradise, and time had crept on -and on until suddenly he saw the flowers withering before him. He had -been false to himself, he had worn a mask, and now it was to be torn -aside; but this he could bear. How would Rachel bear it? - -Unconsciously he had risen from his chair, and was pacing to and fro -while he reflected. Pausing, he saw upon the table the papers he had -been studying. The meeting of the Jewish society was of minor -consequence, and required but little thought; the second meeting, -however, was of vast importance, for there a decision was to be -arrived at which would affect thousands of poor families and have a -direct bearing upon the question of capital and labour. There had been -a great strike in the building trade, and thousands of men had -deliberately thrown themselves out of employment, choosing, in their -adherence to a principle, what was almost next door to starvation. The -strike had been brought about by a rival contractor, a Mr. Poynter, an -employer of labour on an extensive scale, and a man as well known as -Aaron himself. To say that these two were rivals does not necessarily -imply that they were enemies, for that is a game that two must play -at, and it was a game in which Aaron played no part. He did not -approve of Mr. Poynter's methods: he went no further than that; and if -he was called upon to express his opinion upon the subject he did so -in a manner which robbed it of any personal application. Mr. Poynter, -on the other hand, was nothing if he was not personal, and he hated -Aaron with a very sincere and conscientious hate. He hated him because -he had lost several profitable contracts, which Aaron had obtained; -and this hatred may be applied in a general sense, because he hated -every successful rival, great or small. He hated him because Aaron was -genuinely respected by large bodies of working men, and had great -influence with them; and this hatred may also be applied in a general -sense, because he hated all employers of labour who were held by their -workmen in higher respect than himself. He hated Aaron because he was -a Jew; and this may certainly be applied in a general sense, because -he had a bitter hatred of all Jews, and would have willingly -subscribed liberally and joined in a crusade to hunt them out of the -country. He did not subscribe to the Society for Promoting -Christianity among the Jews, because to Christianise them would be to -admit them upon terms of equality, and the idea was abhorrent to him. -On no terms could a Jew be made the equal of a Christian. That a Jew -could be a good man, that he could be a just man, that he could do -anything without an eye to profit or self-aggrandisement--these, in -his belief, were monstrous propositions, and no man of sense, -certainly no true Christian, could seriously entertain them. Mr. -Poynter was a Christian, a true Christian, regular in his attendance -at church, and fairly liberal, also, in his charities, though his left -hand always knew what his right hand did. And here he found another -cause for hating Aaron. He heard his name quoted as a man of large -benevolence, and he went so far as to declare that Aaron's charities -were a means to an end. "He looks upon them as an investment," he -said; "they bring him a good return. Did you ever know a Jew part with -money without an eye to the main chance?" When he heard that it was -generally reported that Aaron gave away in secret much more than he -gave away in public, his comment was, "What is easier than to set such -a rumour afloat? Any rich man can do it by an expenditure of ten -pounds a year! If money is bestowed in secret, who is to know of it -but the donor? If it becomes public, who could have spoken of it first -but the donor? No one but a fool would be gulled by so transparent a -trick!" These detractions were generally uttered to men who -sympathised with the speaker, and they were not without effect. By -which it will be seen that Aaron had enemies, as all men have. Mr. -Poynter posed as a moral man, and it is the very essence of these -usurpers of morality that each of them must stand alone, and that upon -the pedestal he sets up there shall be no room for any other braggart. -He was a married man, with sons and daughters, and a wife, who all -looked upon the husband and father as a pattern. Whether his children -followed the pattern or not does not concern this history, which has -to do with the head of the family alone. Whatever a man may be in the -prime of life, the earlier Adam, if it differ from the later, will -very likely assert itself in the blood of his descendants, and this -may have been the case with Mr. Poynter's children, despite the -respect in which they held him. You come into contact with a -sober-faced man whose distinguishing mark is one of intense -respectability; you see him at home in the bosom of his family, whom -he entertains with severely respectable platitudes; you hear his -opinions on matters of current interest, a trial, a scandal in high -life, tittle-tattle of the stage, the Court, the Church, and society -in general. What an intensely respectable gentleman, what severely -respectable views, what strict morality, what an estimable father of a -family! Ah, but draw the curtain of years aside, and we behold another -man--another man, yet still the same, a man about town, philandering, -deceiving, lying, and playing the base part to serve his selfish -pleasures. Where is the morality, where the respectability now--and -which of the two is the true man? - -Was this the case with Mr. Poynter? The course of events may possibly -supply the answer to this question presently. Meanwhile, nothing is -more certain to-day than that he is accepted as he presents himself. -But, if in the past life of such a man as Aaron Cohen may be found an -episode of his own creating upon which he looks with dismay, why might -it not be so with such a man as Mr. Poynter? - -In a country like England, where operations of magnitude are being -continually undertaken, there is room for all who occupy the higher -rungs of the ladder; it is only the lower rungs which are overcrowded, -and which need clearing by means of emigration to lands where there is -room for the toiling, suffering millions. But Mr. Poynter chose to -believe that there was not room for Aaron and himself, and he nursed -and fostered a venomous desire to drag Aaron down. This desire, -indeed, had really become a disease with him, and had grown by what it -fed on. He hunted about for the means, he asked questions. It was -unquestionably true that there were Jews who had grown rich through -dishonesty and usury, and Mr. Poynter did not stop to consider that -this applied equally to Christians. Perhaps it was the knowledge of -his own early life that made him think, "If I could find something in -his past that would bring shame upon him--if I could only rake up -something that would show him in his true light! It would be the -commercial and social ruin of him. He would never be able to hold up -his head again." He would gladly have paid for some such discovery. - -At the present time he had special reasons for hate. One reason was -that the strike in the building trade was affecting him seriously. He -was engaged in large contracts, in the carrying out of which thousands -of men were needed, and it was chiefly against himself that the strike -was ordered by the unions. He was on the brink of great losses, and -Aaron had been called in as a mediator and arbitrator. The strike at -an end, and the masters the victors, he was safe, and more prosperous -than ever; but every day that it was prolonged meant so many hundreds -of pounds out of his pocket. His fate seemed to hang upon the final -advice to the men which Aaron was to give, and his profits would be -large or small according to the nature of that advice. He laid the -credit of the strike at Aaron's door; for in their enterprises he and -Aaron employed different methods. Aaron had pursued in England the -course he had pursued in France. He paid his men liberally, gave them -bonuses, even to a certain extent acknowledged them as co-operators. -In Mr. Poynter's eyes this was a crime, for it struck at the very root -of his prosperity. "He is a rabid socialist," Mr. Poynter said; "men -of his stamp are a danger to society." - -Another reason was that tenders had lately been called for works of -exceptional magnitude, and he had entertained hopes of obtaining the -contract. Again he was worsted by this insidious enemy. Within the -last few hours he had heard that Aaron's tender had been accepted. He -ground his teeth with rage. He could have undertaken the works in -spite of the strike, for he had very nearly completed arrangements for -the introduction of foreign workmen, whom he was determined to employ -if the English workmen held out. There would be a row, of course, and -the lower classes would cast obloquy upon him, for which he would have -to thank his rival and enemy. When he heard that he had lost the -contract he said to a friend, "I would give half I am worth to drag -him down." And he meant what he said. - -The last meeting of the strikers was now being held. It had been -called for seven o'clock, and it was known that the discussion would -occupy several hours. Aaron was not asked to attend this discussion, -which was to be private, even the representatives of the press not -being admitted. Eleven o'clock was the hour at which he was expected, -and it was understood that he would bring with him certain -propositions from the masters, which, with the workmen's views, were -to be discussed, and a decision arrived at. To-morrow morning's papers -would announce whether the strike was to be continued or was at an -end. - -He studied the papers before him--the arguments and statements of -employers of labour, comparisons of wages here and in foreign -countries, the comparative rates of living here and there, and the -conflicting views of the living wage, documents of every description, -among which were pathetic letters from wives of the strikers, -imploring him to put an end to the strike. He had mastered them all, -and was familiar with every detail, but he read them again in order to -divert his attention for this night from his own private affairs. His -mind must be free; he would think of them to-morrow. He had public -duties to attend to. Before all, duty. - -The words haunted him, and he was dismayed to find that all his -efforts to concentrate his attention upon his public duties were vain. -Pictures of the past presented themselves: he saw his home in Gosport; -he saw Rachel lying in bed with her dead babe by her side; he saw -himself engaged in the task of completing the guilty deception, -changing the clothing of the infants, and giving his own child to a -strange woman,--every incident connected with his sin was stamped -indelibly upon his brain, and now rose vividly before him. Very well. -He had half an hour to spare before he left his house for the Jewish -meeting; he would devote the time to a consideration of his private -affairs. - -He gathered his papers, arranged them in order, and put them in his -pocket. He dallied with them at first, but feeling that he was -prolonging the simple task in order to shorten the time for serious -thought, he smiled pitifully at his weakness, and completed it -expeditiously. - -In admitting Ruth into his household, in adopting her as a daughter he -had undertaken a sacred responsibility. He was fully conscious of this -twenty years ago in Gosport, and what he had done had been done -deliberately. It was a question then of the sacrifice of a precious -life. The doctor had stated the case very clearly. The pregnant words -they had exchanged were in his memory now, and might have been spoken -only a few moments since. "Her life," the doctor had said, "hangs upon -the life of her child." "If our child lives," Aaron had asked, "there -is hope that my wife will live?" "A strong hope," the doctor had -answered. "And if our child dies?" asked Aaron. The doctor answered, -"The mother will die." - -He recalled the agony of those hours, the sufferings through which -Rachel had passed with so much sweetness and patience, his poverty and -helplessness, the dark future before him. Then came the ray of light, -Mr. Moss, with the strange commission of the deserted child. He had -not courted it, had not invited it; he had had no hand in it. He had -regarded it as a message from heaven. What followed? The death of his -own babe, the calm and peaceful death, the young soul taken to heaven, -his beloved wife in an untroubled sleep by the side of her dead babe. -It was a visitation of God. Could he be accused of having had a hand -in it? Heaven forbid! On the contrary, who could blame him for -believing that it was a Divine direction of the course he was to take? -And who was wronged? Surely not the mother who had deserted her babe. -Surely not the babe, who had found a happy home. The wrong--and herein -was the sting--was to Rachel, whose life had been saved by the deceit. -So far, then, was he not justified? - -But if, before the committal of a sin, we could see the consequences -of the sin--if he had seen the consequences of his, would he not have -paused, and said, "It rests with God; let it be as He wills; I will be -no party to the deceit"? In that case Rachel's life would have been -sacrificed. There was no human doubt of it. Rachel would have died, -and the blessings she had shed around her, the good she had been -enabled to do, the suffering hearts she had relieved, the light she -had brought into despairing homes, would never have been. Against a -little evil, so much good. Against a slight error, so much that was -sweet and beautiful. - -But in these reflections he had taken into account only Rachel and -himself--only their two lives. How about Ruth herself? - -He had never disguised from himself that there was much in Ruth's -character which was not in accordance with Rachel's views or his own, -which she did not assimilate with either of their natures. Being one -of his family in the eyes of the world, he had brought her up as a -Jewess. She was born a Christian. Was this not a crime of which she -had been made the victim? He had experienced great difficulties in her -education. He wished to correct the defect which exists in ninety-nine -English Jewesses out of a hundred--he wished her to pray in the Hebrew -tongue, and to understand her prayers. To this end he himself had -endeavoured to teach her to read and translate Hebrew. She would not -learn. Even now as a woman she understood but a very few words, and -this scanty knowledge was mechanical. A parrot might have learned as -much. She had an aversion to Jewish society. As a child, when she was -necessarily in leading strings, she was taken by Rachel to the -synagogue on every Sabbath day, but when she began to have intelligent -ideas she rebelled; she would not go, and Rachel walked to the House -of God alone. It was a grief to her that Ruth would not follow in her -footsteps, and she and Aaron had frequently conversed upon the -subject. "It is so with many Jewish women," Aaron said. "It would be -wrong to force her; she will find out her error by-and-by." But Ruth -never did, and Rachel suffered in silence. - -There was another sorrow. Between their son Joseph and Ruth did not -exist that love which brother and sister should bear each other. -Joseph was ready with demonstrative affection, but Ruth did not -respond. Aaron had taken note of this, but he was powerless to remedy -it, and the lad, who was as solicitous as his father to spare the dear -mother pain, made no trouble of it. Ruth respected and admired her -reputed father, and in the feelings she entertained towards him there -was an element of fear, because of his strength of character, but she -did not love him as a child should. He, knowing what he knew, found -excuses for her. "It is in her blood," he said to himself. - -All this was hidden from Rachel, to whom Ruth was tender and kind. Who -could be otherwise to so sweet a woman? But Rachel did not know of -what she was deprived until Esther Moss began to make long visits to -their home. "Esther is like a daughter to me," she said, and only -Aaron was aware of the depth of meaning these simple words conveyed. -In Rachel's association with Esther she had realised what a daughter -might have been to her. - -But now he had to consider the matter, not from his or Rachel's point -of view, but from Ruth's. She was a woman in her springtime, and love -had come to her, and she had held out her arms to it. And the man she -loved was a Christian. - -It was not within his right to take into consideration that the man -she loved was a spendthrift and a scapegrace. The question had often -intruded itself since she was grown to womanhood, whether he would not -be adding sin to sin by encouraging her to marry a Jew. She had -answered the question herself. What right had he to gainsay her? He -might, as a true and sincere friend, say to her, "This man will not -make you happy. He has vices and defects which will bring misery upon -your home. You must not marry him." But he had no right to say to her -"You must not marry this man because he is a Christian." It would be a -detestable argument for one in his position, and in hers, to advance. - -Then Mr. Dillworthy might be wrong in his estimate of the young man's -character. The only objection Lord Storndale had to the union was that -Ruth was a Jewess. But she was not a Jewess, and it was in his power -to go to the young man's father and make the disclosure to him. Lord -Storndale's natural reply would be, "Let it be clearly understood. You -have done this lady a grievous wrong. You are a wealthy man. Repair -the wrong by making a suitable settlement upon her. But it must be -publicly done, and the injustice of which you have been guilty must be -publicly acknowledged." The only answer he could make would be, "It is -just. I will do as you dictate." - -What would be the effect as regarded himself? Among his -co-religionists he was held up as a pillar of the old Jewish faith. -His voice had been raised against apostasy; he had taken a decided -stand against the more liberal ideas of civilised life which prevailed -and were adopted by a large section of his race. Even now he was -pledged to deliver a public address against the backsliding of the -modern Jew, who was disposed to adapt his life to the altered -circumstances of the times. He had written this address, and public -attention had been drawn to the coming event. His arguments were to -himself convincing, and by them he hoped to stem the tide. He had -always been orthodox, and he hoped to prevail against the wave of -heterodoxy which was sweeping over modern Judaism. He had stepped -forward as a champion. In the light of the domestic revelation which -must presently be made, how dare he, himself a transgressor, presume -to teach his brethren their religious duty? His sound judgment of -things which interested or affected him was due to his common sense, -which, he had been heard to say, was a rare quality. - -"You are always right," Mr. Moss once said to him. "How is it?" - -"If I form a correct opinion," he replied, with a smile, "it is -because I exercise my common sense. I do not judge from my own -standpoint." - -He did this now. He put himself in the place of other men. He listened -to his own confession. He passed the verdict upon himself. - -"This man has been living the life of a hypocrite. He has accepted -money for false service. Not perhaps by word of mouth, but most -assuredly by his acts, he has lied. He has violated the canons of his -religion. He has deceived his wife--for money, which he pretends to -despise. He has robbed a young girl of her birthright. And he dares to -preach to us of duty!" - -Who would believe him if he told the true story of his hard trial, if -he described the bitter tribulation of his soul when his beloved wife -was lying at death's door? He had counselled many men in their days of -struggle and temptation to be brave and do their duty. How had he -performed his in _his_ hour of temptation? No one would believe the -only story he could plead in extenuation of his sin. He would be -condemned by all. - -And he was in the zenith of his fame. On this very day, when exposure -seemed to be approaching with, swift and certain steps, he had been -honoured as few men live to be. If he felt pleasure in the position he -had won, it was because it was a source of pride and pleasure to -Rachel. Was he, with his own hand, to destroy the ideal he had -created? Was this the plain duty that lay now before him? - -"The carriage is at the door, sir." - -It was a servant who interrupted his tortured musings; he had given -orders to be informed when his carriage was ready. With slow steps he -left his study. - - - - - - BOOK THE SIXTH. - - _RETRIBUTION_. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - ESTHER MOSS RECEIVES A LETTER. - - -There was an apartment in Aaron Cohen's house which was called the -Cosy Room, where the family were in the habit of sitting when they had -no visitors, and it was here that their real domestic happiness -reigned. Here Aaron used to smoke his old silver-mounted pipe, and -chat with his wife, and indulge in his entertaining pleasantries when -he was in the humour; and here the feeling used to steal over him that -life would hold more joy for him and those dear to him if they dwelt -in a smaller house and his doings were less under the public eye. - -"I am convinced," he would say, "that those who are in the lower -middle class are the best off. They have fewer cares, they have more -time for domestic enjoyment, they can attend without hindrance to -their own affairs. Their neighbours are not jealous of them; they are -not high enough to be envied, nor low enough to be pitied. There is no -happiness in riches. Miserable man that I am! Why do I continue to -wish to accumulate more money?" - -"Because," Rachel would answer affectionately, "it enables you to -contribute to the happiness of others. But I should be as contented if -we were poor." - -On the occasion of Mr. Dillworthy's visit to Aaron a scene of a -different nature was being enacted in the Cosy Room. Rachel was -overpowered with languor, and she fell into a doze. The apartment was -large; but an arrangement of screens, and the disposal of the -furniture, made it look small; domestically speaking, there is no -comfort in any but a small room. Esther, during her present visit, had -noticed with concern that Mrs. Cohen appeared weak, that her -movements, which were always gentle, were more languid than usual, and -that her quiet ways seemed to be the result of physical prostration. -She spoke of it to Rachel, who confessed that she had not felt strong -lately, but cautioned the young girl to say nothing of it to Aaron. - -"He is so easily alarmed about me," she said, "and he has great -anxieties upon him." - -"But you should see the doctor," urged Esther, solicitously. - -"I will wait a day or two," answered Rachel, and again enjoined Esther -not to alarm her husband. - -On the evening of this exciting day she looked so pale and fatigued -that she yielded to Esther's solicitations, and, without Aaron's -knowledge, sent for the physician who was in the habit of attending -her. While waiting for him she fell asleep in her armchair in the Cosy -Room. At her request Esther played softly some of Rachel's favourite -pieces; the piano was behind a screen at one end of the room, and -Esther did not know that she had fallen asleep. While thus employed -Prissy quietly entered the room. The faithful woman looked at her -mistress, and stepped noiselessly to the screen. - -"Miss Esther," she whispered. - -The girl stopped playing immediately, and came from behind the screen. - -"Is it the doctor, Prissy?" she asked. - -"No, miss." - -Prissy pointed to her mistress, and Esther went to the armchair and -adjusted a light shawl which was falling from the sleeping lady's -shoulder. It was a slight action, but it was done with so much -tenderness that Prissy smiled approvingly. She liked Esther much -better than Ruth, who did not hold in her affections the place the -other members of the family did. Humble as was her position in the -household, she had observed things of which she disapproved. Ruth was -from home more frequently than she considered proper, and had often -said to her, "You need not tell my mother that I have gone out unless -she asks you." Prissy had not disobeyed her, and the consequence was -that Ruth was sometimes absent from the house for hours without her -mother or father being aware of it. Prissy's idea was that her young -mistress would bring trouble on the house; but she kept silence -because she would otherwise have got into trouble herself with Ruth, -and would also have distressed her dear lady if she had made mention -of her suspicions, for which she could have offered no reasonable -explanation. Prissy's distress of mind was not lessened because Ruth, -when she enjoined secrecy upon her, gave her money, as if to purchase -her silence. She would have refused these bribes; but Ruth forced them -upon her, and she felt as if she were in a conspiracy to destroy the -peace of the family. - -"I did not know she was asleep," said Esther, coming back to Prissy. - -"I'm sure you didn't, miss. She falls off, you know." - -"Yes, I know," said Esther, with affectionate solicitude. - -"As she used to do a good many years ago--long before you knew her, -miss. She had gone through a severe illness, and was that delicate for -months afterwards that you could almost blow her away. She never -complained, and never did a cross word pass her lips. I'm glad you're -with her, Miss Esther: you're a real comfort to her. I've got a letter -for you, miss." - -"I didn't hear the postman." - -"The postman didn't bring it, miss," said Prissy, giving her the -letter. "A boy. Said immejiet." - -"It must be from---- no." She was thinking of her lover as she looked -at the letter, but she saw it was not his hand. She recognised the -writing: it was Ruth's. "The envelope is not very clean, Prissy." - -"So I told the boy when he brought it to the back door." - -"The back door!" exclaimed Esther, rather bewildered. - -"It's curious, isn't it, miss, that it wasn't sent by post?" - -"Yes, it is. What did the boy say?" - -"It's what I said first, miss. 'You've been and dropped it in the -gutter,' I said; but he only laughed, and said it was give to him this -morning, and that he was to bring it to the servants' entrance and ask -for Prissy." - -"But why didn't he deliver it this morning?" asked Esther, her -bewilderment growing. - -"I don't know, miss. He's been playing in the streets all day, I -expect. Anyway, he said I was to give it to you when nobody was -looking. It's Miss Ruth's writing, miss." - -Esther made no remark upon this, but asked, "Did he say who gave it to -him?" - -"A young lady, he said, miss." - -"That will do, Prissy." - -"Can I do anything for you, miss?" - -"Nothing, thank you." - -Prissy gone, Esther looked at the envelope, and saw written in one -corner, "Read this when you are alone." Troubled and perplexed, she -stood with the letter in her hand; but when the door was opened again -and the doctor was announced, she put it hastily into her pocket, and -went forward to meet him. - -Dr. Roberts had attended Rachel for some years past, and took the -deepest interest in her. - -"Sleeping," he said, stepping to her side. He turned to Esther, and, -questioning her, learned why he had been sent for. "She falls asleep," -he said, with his fingers on Rachel's pulse. "Ah, you are awake," as -Rachel sat upright. "Now, let us see what is the matter. You are not -in pain? No. That's good." - -"There is really nothing the matter with me, doctor," said Rachel. - -"But you feel weak and drowsy at times. We will soon set that right." - -Dr. Roberts was one of those cheerful physicians whose bright ways -always brighten their patients. "Make the best of a case," was a -favourite saying of his, "not the worst." - -He remained with Rachel a quarter of an hour, advised her to get to -bed, gave her instructions as to food, ordered her a tonic, and took -his leave. Esther went with him into the passage. - -"There is no danger, doctor?" - -"Not the slightest, my dear," he answered, in a fatherly manner. "But -I would advise perfect rest. Don't tell her anything exciting. She -must not be worried. Get a humorous story and read it to her. Make her -laugh. Let everything be bright and cheerful about her. But I need not -say that: it always is--eh? If you have any troubles, keep them to -yourself. But what troubles should a young girl like you have?" - -He met Aaron at the street door. - -"Ah, Mr. Cohen, I have been to see your wife--in a friendly way." - -"She is not ill?" asked Aaron, in an anxious tone, stepping back. - -"No; a little weak, that is all. Don't go up to see her; I have just -left her, and she will think there is something the matter, when -there's nothing that cannot be set right in a few days. She wants -tone, that is all, and rest, and perfect freedom from excitement. That -is essential. Such a day as this, flattering and pleasant as it must -have been, is not good for her. Keep her mind at rest, let her hear -nothing that is likely to disturb her, speak of none but cheerful -subjects to her, and she will be herself again in a week. Follow my -advice, and there is not the least cause for alarm." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - RUTH'S SECRET. - - -Dr. Roberts spoke so heartily and confidently that Aaron's anxiety was -relieved, and the counsel that Rachel should be told nothing that was -likely to disturb her was something like a reprieve, as it prevented -him from precipitating matters. A few days were still left for -reflection, and he went forth to his public duties with a lighter -heart. - -Esther, meanwhile, was busy for some time attending to Rachel, who -wished the young girl to remain with her till she was asleep. With -Ruth's letter in her pocket, which had been delivered almost -clandestinely at the house, and which she was enjoined to read when -she was alone, she was compelled to bridle her impatience. She did not -dare to speak of it to Rachel, and the course the conversation took in -the bedroom did not tend to compose her. Rachel spoke only of family -matters, of her husband and children, and presently the conversation -drifted entirely to the subject of Ruth. - -"Young girls," said Rachel, "confide in each other. There is a true -affection between you, is there not, my dear?" - -"Yes," replied Esther, wondering what was coming, and dreading it. - -"It happens sometimes," continued Rachel, with a sigh, "that parents -do not entirely win their children's confidence. Joseph has not a -secret from me. Do you think Ruth is quite happy, my dear?" - -"I think so," said Esther. - -"I am not asking you to break a confidence she may have reposed in -you----" - -Esther could not refrain from interrupting her. - -"But, dear mother, I know nothing." - -As she uttered the words a guilty feeling stole over her. What did the -letter in her pocket contain? - -Rachel drew the girl's face to hers, and caressed her. - -"Now it is you," she said, "who are speaking as if you are in trouble. -I am very inconsiderate; but love has its pains as well as its joys. -You have no trouble, Esther?" - -"None, dear mother. I am perfectly happy." - -"See how mistaken I am; and I hope I am mistaken also about Ruth. I -feared that she had some secret which she was concealing from me. -Blind people are suspicious, and breed trouble for themselves and -others." - -"Not you, dear mother," said Esther, kissing her. "Now you must go to -sleep. This is quite against the doctor's orders." - -Rachel smiled and yielded. She took pleasure in being led by those she -loved. - -In the solitude of her chamber Esther read the letter. - - -"Darling Esther,-- - -"I am in great trouble, and you must help me. You are the only friend -I have in the world----but no, I must not say that; it is not true. -What I mean is, you are the only friend at home I can trust. - -"Father and mother, and you, too, think I am in Portsmouth with your -family. Dear Esther, I am in London; I have been in London all the -week. The happiness of my life is in your hands; remember that. - -"I went down to Portsmouth, but I only stayed two days. I told your -father I had to pay a visit to other friends, and he believed me. And -now I hear he is in London, and of course will come to the house. He -is the only person you may tell; you must beg him not to say a word -about my going from Portsmouth; you must make him promise; you don't -know what depends upon it. Speak to him quietly, and say he must not -betray me; he will do anything for you. - -"Dear, darling Esther, I have a secret that I cannot disclose yet. I -will soon--perhaps to-morrow, perhaps in a week; I cannot fix a time, -because it does not depend upon me. But remember my happiness is in -your hands. - - "Your loving - - "Ruth." - - -The young girl was bewildered and distressed by this communication. -They had all believed that Ruth was on a visit to Esther's family, and -Esther had received letters from her with the Portsmouth postmark on -them. It was true that Ruth had asked her, as a particular favour, not -to reply to the letters, and though Esther considered it a strange -request, she had complied with it. Ruth's stronger will always -prevailed with her. But what did it all mean? If Ruth had been in -London a week, where was she stopping? Esther's character could hardly -as yet be said to be formed: it was sweet, but it lacked decision, and -now that she was called upon to act in a matter of importance she -looked helplessly round, as if for guidance. She was glad when Prissy -knocked at her door and said that her father was downstairs. Part of -the responsibility seemed to be already lifted from her shoulders. - -"Prissy," she said, before she went down, "you haven't spoken to -anybody about the letter?" - -"No, miss." - -"Don't say anything about it, please. Mrs. Cohen is not well, and the -doctor is very particular that she shall not be bothered or worried." - -"I won't say anything, miss." She shook her head gravely as Esther -tripped downstairs, and muttered, "Trouble's coming, or my name ain't -what it is." - -"I am so glad you are here, father," said Esther; "I have something to -tell you." - -"I have something to tell _you_," said Mr. Moss. "Such an odd -impression! Of course I must be mistaken. But first I want to know how -Mrs. Cohen is. I thought she was not looking strong to-day." - -Esther told him of the doctor's visit and the instructions he had -given, and then handed him Ruth's letter, which he read in silence. - -"I don't like the look of it," he said. "I hate mystery, and I cannot -decide immediately whether it ought to be kept from Mr. Cohen." - -"Oh, father," cried Esther, "Ruth will never forgive me if I betray -her." - -"I don't think it is a question of betrayal," said Mr. Moss. "She -tells you to speak to me, and you have done so. I take the blame on -myself, whatever happens. My dear, you are not old enough to -understand such matters, and you must leave this to me. The letter -will be better in my keeping than in yours. Just consider, Esther; -would you have behaved so?" - -"No, father, I could not." - -"There is the answer. The odd impression I spoke of was that I saw -Ruth to-night in a hansom cab. I thought I was mistaken, but now I am -convinced it was she. If I had known what I know now I should have -followed her. As to Ruth never forgiving you, what will Mr. Cohen's -feelings be towards you when he discovers that you have acted in a -treacherous manner towards him and his wife? Ruth is very little older -than yourself, and I am afraid cannot discriminate between right and -wrong; she must not be allowed to drag us into a conspiracy against -the peace of the family." - -Esther was dismayed; she had not looked upon it in this light. - -"Was Ruth alone?" she asked, in a faltering voice. - -"No, she had a gentleman with her. It is a bad business--a bad -business. I intended to return to Portsmouth to-morrow, but now I -shall remain till the matter is cleared up." - -"Shall you speak to Mr. Cohen to-night, father?" - -"No. I shall do nothing till the morning; I must have time to consider -how to act. Mr. Cohen will not be home till past midnight, and he will -be completely tired out with the fatigues of the day. To think that it -should turn out so! Good-night, my dear child. Get to bed, and try to -sleep. Things may turn out better than we expect, after all." - -But despite that hope Mr. Moss, when he left Aaron's house, could find -nothing more cheerful to occupy his mind than the _Miserere_ from "Il -Trovatore," which he hummed dolefully as he trudged through the -streets. There was very little sleep for his daughter on this night, -and very little also for Aaron Cohen. The cloud that was gathering was -too ominous for repose. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIX. - - THE HONOURABLE PERCY STORNDALE MAKES AN APPEAL - TO AARON COHEN. - - -On the following morning Aaron had a great deal of work before him -which could not be neglected. He had returned home late on the -previous night, after an exhausting interview with the strikers, in -which he had won the battle. It is to be doubted whether any other man -in London could have exercised so commanding an influence over men who -were convinced that they had right on their side, and many of whom -were still inclined to hold out for better terms than Aaron was -empowered to offer them; but his arguments prevailed in the end, and -the men gave way. Neither the masters nor the strikers obtained all -they desired; each side had to concede something; though, in the main, -the advantage lay with the men, whose delegates, in generous words, -acknowledged the services which Aaron had rendered to the cause they -were fighting for. The newspapers, in recording that the strike was -over, were no less generous in their acknowledgments. "It will be long -remembered," said the editor of a leading journal, "that a grave -danger has been averted chiefly through the influence and high -character of one of the most esteemed of our Jewish citizens. To Mr. -Aaron Cohen, and to him alone, may be said to be due the credit of -terminating a strike which, had it been much longer continued, would -have had a disastrous effect upon an important industry, and in the -performance of a service which was as disinterested as it was arduous -he has established his claim to be ranked among the public benefactors -of the country. Masters may well take a lesson from this gentleman, -who, in the building up of his own fortunes, has been consistently -mindful of the interests and well-being of his workmen. Herein we see -the value of character and its influence on the masses. Were capital -generally to follow the example of Mr. Cohen in its dealings with -labour there would be less room for discontent. In another column will -be found an account of the proceedings which took place at this -gentleman's house yesterday, upon which occasion a deserved honour was -paid to him. If he deserved, as he certainly did, such a tribute -yesterday, he deserves it tenfold to-day when the thanks of the nation -are due to him for his successful efforts in the builders' strike." At -any other time Aaron would have been proud to read these remarks, but -now he put the newspaper aside with a heavy sigh. The higher the -position the greater the fall. He alone knew that his fair reputation -was in danger, and that the honourable edifice he had built for -himself was tottering to the ground. From these matters, however, his -attention was diverted by a visit from his wife's physician. - -Dr. Roberts had not been quite ingenuous in his report of Rachel's -condition: his ripe experience warned him that a crisis might occur, -and that a few days must elapse before the extent of the danger, if -any existed, could be ascertained. It was this that caused him to call -early at the house to see Rachel, and when he left her he sought Aaron -to confer with him. The moment the doctor entered the room Aaron's -thoughts flew to his beloved, and he started up in alarm. - -"Doctor!" he cried. - -"Now what do you see in my face," said Dr. Roberts, with a smile, "to -cause you to start up so suddenly? Sit down, sit down, and let me tell -you at once that your wife is in no danger--only she requires a little -care and attention. I have come to give you advice, if you will listen -to it." - -"Of course I will listen to it." - -"Of course you will; and you will follow it." - -"To the letter." - -"That is right. My advice is that you send Mrs. Cohen at once to the -seaside. She will be better out of London. I saw on her table a number -of letters--begging letters, I was informed--which Miss Moss had been -reading to her. Just now she is not equal to the strain. She must be -free from the emotions created by these appeals, and from anything of -an agitating nature. Perfect repose and rest--that is what she -requires, with brighter sunshine and a balmier air, and in a week or -two she will be well. I should recommend Bournemouth, and if you wish -I will run down and see her there. Meanwhile, I will give you the name -of a physician who will understand her case as well as I do. Let Miss -Moss go with her; your wife is fond of her, and she is a cheerful -companion, though she seems to be rather depressed this morning. I -have been lecturing the young lady, and she tells me she has had a bad -night. It will do them both good." - -"I cannot accompany her to-day," said Aaron. "I have so many important -matters to attend to. We will go down to-morrow." - -"Send her to-day," urged the physician, "and you can follow on -to-morrow, or later. It is good weather for travelling; in a few hours -it may change. To-day, by all means. We doctors are autocrats, you -know, and will not listen to argument. To-day." - -Had the business he had to attend to been of less importance, Aaron -would have put it aside, and travelled with his wife to the seaside; -but it was business which imperatively demanded his personal -attention, and he had no alternative but to send her with Esther and -the ever faithful Prissy, in whom he had every confidence. He -accompanied them as far as the railway station, and held Rachel's hand -in his as they drove to Waterloo. It was not only that they were still -lovers, but that he felt the need of the moral support which he -derived from the tender hand-clasp. - -"Do not be anxious about me, dear," said Rachel, "and do not come down -till Friday. Then you can stop till Monday morning, and perhaps Joseph -will be home by then, and he can come with you. He will not be able to -keep away from Esther, and he has but a short time to remain in -England. Nothing really ails me except a little weakness which I shall -soon overcome. If Ruth is happy in Portsmouth let her remain there if -she wishes. We are growing old, love, you and I, and we must not tie -our children too closely to our sides. They will fly away as the young -birds do, and make nests of their own. May their homes be as happy as -ours has been--may their lives be as happy as you have made mine!" - -In such-like tender converse the minutes flew by, and as the train -steamed out of the station Rachel's face, with a bright smile upon it, -was turned towards her husband. - -On the road home Aaron telegraphed to Ruth in Portsmouth, addressing -his telegram to Mr. Moss's house; he desired her to return to London -to-day or to-morrow. He felt that he must speak to her with as little -delay as possible respecting the disclosure which Mr. Dillworthy had -made to him; it would be playing the coward's part, indeed, if he did -not immediately ascertain the nature of her feelings for the -Honourable Percy Storndale. Thus far the first step of his duty; what -steps were to follow he had not yet determined upon. - -Arriving at his house, he found Mr. Moss waiting to see him. Esther -had left a letter for her father acquainting him with their departure -for the seaside, and giving him their address in Bournemouth, which -she was enabled to do because Aaron had made arrangements by telegraph -for their reception in a Jewish house there. After a few words of -explanation of the cause of Rachel and Esther leaving so suddenly, -Aaron informed his friend that he had telegraphed to Ruth to come home -at once. Mr. Moss started. - -"You sent the telegram to my house?" he said. - -"Certainly. I am sorry to break her visit, which she must have -enjoyed, but there is a necessity for it. As my oldest friend you -should not be kept in ignorance of this necessity, and we will agree -that it is not to be spoken of outside ourselves without my consent." - -Thereupon he related the part of his interview with Mr. Dillworthy -that affected Ruth and the son of Lord Storndale. - -"There is another matter," he said, "of great importance which was -mentioned during the interview, and which we may speak of presently. -You now know my reason for sending to Ruth to come home. I must learn -the truth from her own lips." - -"Strangely enough," said Mr. Moss, nervously, "I have come to say -something about Ruth myself." - -"Surely not in connection with this matter?" exclaimed Aaron. - -"You must be the judge of that, Cohen. Did you notice whether Esther -was looking well?" - -"She looked tired. Dr. Roberts said she had passed a bad night, and -that the change would do her good." - -"A bad night. No wonder, poor child! I scarcely slept an hour with -what is on my mind. You will be surprised at what I have to tell you. -But first--Esther said nothing about Ruth?" - -"Nothing whatever." - -"You must not blame her; she acted by my directions, and her lips are -sealed." - -"Why should I blame her? She is a dear good child; I have implicit -faith and confidence in her. You alarm me, Mr. Moss. Speak plainly, I -beg of you." - -"Yes, I will do so, but I would have liked to break it gradually. -Cohen, Ruth is not in Portsmouth." - -"Not in Portsmouth! Where, then?" - -"If what she writes and my eyes are to be believed, she is in London, -and has been there all the week, She remained with us two days, and -then left, saying she was going to pay a visit to some other friends. -We naturally thought, though we expected her to make a longer stay, -that you were aware of it, and that the plan of her visit had been -altered with your concurrence. Last night, as I passed through Regent -Street, I saw a lady in a hansom in the company of a gentleman, and I -could have sworn it was Ruth; but the cab was driving at a quick pace, -and I thought I must have been deceived. I came on here to Esther, and -the poor child was in deep distress. She had received a letter from -Ruth, which she gave me to read. I do not offer any excuse for taking -the letter from her; she is but a child, and is quite unfit for a -responsibility which, without her consent, was imposed upon her. Here -is the letter; it explains itself." - -Aaron read it with conflicting feelings. His first thought was that -Ruth had taken her fate into her own hands. He had done his duty -zealously by her in the past, whatever might be his duty in the -present. If, as was his fervent hope, no dishonour to her was involved -in her flight--for it was no less than flight, and desertion of the -home in which she had been reared--if there had been a secret -marriage, new contingencies of the future loomed dimly before him, -contingencies in which the stern task it was his duty to perform was -not so terrible in its import. The past could never be condoned, but -in his consideration of the future one figure towered above all -others, the figure of his wife. If for her the suffering could be made -less--if the fact of Ruth taking her course without his prompting, -even in defiance of the lessons he had endeavoured to inculcate, would -mitigate the severity of the blow, was it not something to be grateful -for? If, he argued mentally, she and the son of Lord Storndale were -married, they had little to hope for from the Storndale family. Their -dependence, then, rested upon him, and he resolved that he would not -fail the rash couple. His hope of an honourable, though secret, -marriage was based upon his knowledge of Ruth's character. She was not -given to exaggerated sentiment, he had never known her to go into -heroics, she possessed certain sterling qualities of strength and -determination. Granted that she was led away by the glamour of wedding -the son of a peer, he was convinced she would not so far forget -herself as to bring shame upon herself and her connections. She was -Christian born, and she had the right to marry a Christian; by her own -unprompted act she had cut the Gordian knot. That the Honourable Percy -Storndale had a double motive in pursuing her was likely enough; love, -Aaron hoped, being one, the fact of her reputed father being a wealthy -man the other. Well, he would fulfil the young man's expectations; -there was nothing in the shape of worldly atonement which he was not -ready and anxious to make. - -In the midst of his musings a servant presented himself with a -telegram and a card. The card bore the name of The Hon. Percy -Storndale, the telegram was from Mrs. Moss in Portsmouth. - -"Wait outside," Aaron said to the servant, who left the room. - -The telegram was to the effect that Ruth was not in Portsmouth, and -that Mrs. Moss, in her absence, had taken the liberty of reading the -message, under the idea that it might contain something which required -an immediate answer. "Is Ruth coming to us again?" Mrs. Moss asked. - -Aaron passed the telegram and the card to Mr. Moss. - -"Keep in the house," he said, "while I have an interview with this -gentleman. Wait in the library, and tell the servant to show Mr. -Storndale into this room." - -In a few moments the young man was ushered in and Aaron motioned him -to a seat. - -It is a human failing to run into extremes. No man is quite so good or -bad as he is represented to be by his admirers or detractors. In his -anxiety to prejudice Aaron against Lord Storndale's son Mr. Dillworthy -had done the young man an injustice. A scapegrace he was, without -doubt, but he had been educated into his vices and extravagances--it -may be said with truth carefully reared into them--and he was -certainly no worse than hundreds of other men who are brought up -with no definite aim in life, and are educated without any sensible -and serious effort being made to impress them with life's -responsibilities. He had, indeed, the advantage of many, for although -he considered it perfectly excusable to get into debt with tradesmen -and to borrow from moneylenders without an expectation of being able -to pay either one or the other, he would not have descended so low as -to pick a pocket or to cheat at cards. More of the pigeon than the -gull, he looked always to his family to get him out of his scrapes; he -believed it to be their duty; and it was upon him, not upon them, that -injustice was inflicted when he was thrown entirely upon his own -resources and he was given to understand that for the future he would -have to settle his own liabilities. - -He was fair-haired and blue-eyed, and passably good-looking; beyond -this there was nothing remarkable in his appearance; but there was -that air of good humour and careless ease about him which generally -wins favour with women who do not look beneath the surface. Just now -he was manifestly ill at ease, for he had never before been engaged -upon a mission so awkward and embarrassing. That he was impressed by -Aaron's dignified manner was evident; he had expected to meet a man of -a different stamp. Each waited for the other to speak, and Aaron was -not the first to break the silence. - -"I have taken the liberty of visiting you upon a rather delicate -matter," said the young gentleman, "and it is more difficult than I -anticipated." - -"Yes?" said Aaron, and said no more. - -The monosyllable was uttered in the form of a question, and did not -lessen the difficulties in the young man's way. - -"Yes," he replied, and was at a loss how to continue; but again Aaron -did not assist him. - -"Upon my honour," he said at length, "I would not undertake to say -whether I would rather be in this room than out of it, or out of it -than in it." He gave a weak laugh here, with a half idea that he had -said something rather clever; but still he met with no encouragement -from Aaron. "It is so difficult, you see," he added. "I do not suppose -you know me." - -"No," said Aaron; "I do not know you." - -"I thought it possible that your daughter, Miss Cohen, you know, might -have mentioned me to you." - -"She has never done so." - -"It was my fault entirely. I said, on no account; and naturally she -gave in." - -"Did she wish to mention you to me?" - -"Oh yes; but I insisted. I don't exactly know why, but I did, and she -gave in. I daresay I was a blockhead, but I hope you will find excuses -for me." - -"At present I can find none. We shall understand each other if you -come to the point." - -"I will try to do so, but it is not easy, I assure you Mr. Cohen, -after the way I have behaved. Upon second thoughts I do not see, upon -my honour I do not see, how you can be expected to find excuses for -me. But it does happen sometimes that a fellow meets another fellow -who helps a lame dog over the stile. I am the lame dog, you know." - -"It may assist you," said Aaron, "if I ask you one question, and if -you frankly answer it. Are you a married man?" - -"Upon my soul, sir," exclaimed the Honourable Percy Storndale, "I -cannot be sufficiently thankful to you. Yes, sir, I am a married man." - -"Long married?" - -"Four days, Mr. Cohen." - -"Can you show me proof of it?" - -"I thank you again, sir. But it wasn't my idea; it was my wife's. -'Take the marriage certificate with you,' she said. She has wonderful -ideas." - -"Let me see the certificate." - -The young man instantly produced it, and Aaron, with a deep-drawn -breath of relief, saw recorded there the marriage of Miss Ruth Cohen -and the Honourable Percy Storndale. - -"You married my--my daughter, I see," said Aaron, "in a registrar's -office." - -"I don't know how to apologise to you, sir," said the young man, as -relieved by Aaron's calm attitude as Aaron was himself at this proof -of an honourable union. "I can't conceive anything meaner; but what -could I do? Ruth--Miss Cohen, you know--being a Jewess, could not well -have been married in a church, and I, being a Christian, could not -well have been married in a synagogue. It was a very delicate point; I -am not acquainted with the law on the subject, but no fellow can deny -that it was a delicate point. Then there was another difficulty. -Bridesmaids, bridesmaids' presents, and general expenses, to say -nothing of the publicity when the parties principally concerned wanted -to get it over quietly and quickly. Ruth said you would never consent; -I said my family would never consent; so what else was there for it? -Pray forgive me if I am expressing myself clumsily." - -"Your family did not encourage the match?" - -"Dead against it; from the first dead against it. Bullied and -threatened me. 'What!' they cried, 'marry a Jewess!' 'As good as any -Christian,' I retorted. But did you ever know a Storndale listen to -reason, Mr. Cohen?" - -"You are a Storndale," said Aaron, quietly. - -"Had me there," chuckled the young man. "'Gad, sir, you had me there. -Well, sir, that is how it stands, and if you show me the door I'll not -say I don't deserve it." - -"I will not show you the door, but it is not correct to say that is -how it stands, as if there were nothing more to explain. Mr. -Storndale, if the lady you have married were a Christian, would your -family have objected?" The young man laughed in a weak awkward way. -"Answer me frankly, this and other questions it is my duty to put." - -"My family would not have objected," said the Honourable Percy -Storndale, "if there had been settlements. You see, sir, we are not -exactly rolling in money, and I am a younger son. No expectations, -sir. A poor gentleman." - -"An imprudent marriage, Mr. Storndale." - -"No denying it, sir; and it has only come home to me the last day or -two. Marriage in such circumstances pulls a fellow up, you see, makes -him reflect, you know. My wife's an angel, and that makes it cut -deeper. A married fellow thinks of things. As a bachelor I never -thought of to-morrow, I give you my word on it. So long as I had a -five-pound note in my pocket I was happy. To-morrow! Hang to-morrow! -That was the way of it. I've only just woke up to the fact that there -is a to-morrow." - -"Was it a love match, Mr. Storndale?" - -"On both sides, sir. Without vanity--and I don't deny I've got my -share of that--I may speak for her as well as for myself." - -"From the first, a love match, Mr. Storndale? Did it never occur to -you that I was a rich man?" - -"You drive me hard, sir, but I'm not going to play fast and loose with -you. 'Be prepared, Percy,' Ruth says to me. 'My father is a wise as -well as a just and kind man, and I don't know whether he will ever -forgive me; but you will make a sad mistake if you don't speak the -honest truth to him.' The truth it shall be, as I am a gentleman. I -did think of Ruth's father being a rich man, and seeing us through it. -But after a little while I got so over head and heels that I thought -only of her. I give you my word, sir, I never had the feelings for any -woman that I have for Ruth, and that, I think, is why I'm rather -scared when I think of to-morrow. If I hadn't been afraid of losing -her I might have come straight to you before we went to the registrar, -but I didn't care to run the risk. What would you do, sir, for a woman -you loved?" - -"Everything--anything." - -"You would stake everything against nothing, with a certainty of -losing, rather than give her up?" - -"I would make any earthly sacrifice for her." - -"Well, sir, you know how I feel. I don't set myself up as a good man; -I've done foolish things, and I dare say shall do more foolish things, -but not half nor quarter as many with a clever woman by my side to -keep me straight. What some of us want, sir, is ballast; I never had -it till now, and even now perhaps it's of no use to me. Until a week -ago I had to think for one; now I have to think for two. But thinking -won't help me through, I'm afraid." - -Never before had the Honourable Percy Storndale expressed himself in -so manly a fashion; it was as though contact with Aaron were bringing -out his best qualities. - -"Was it your intention, Mr. Storndale, to come to me so soon after -your marriage?" - -"I had no settled intention when to come, sir, but I have been forced -to it sooner than I expected." - -"What has forced you to it?" - -"Writs. I give you my word they are flying about, and I am afraid I -shall have to fly too. When needs must, you know, sir." - -"Are you heavily in debt?" - -"To the tune of three thousand, sir." - -"When a question of this kind is asked, the answer is generally below -the mark." - -"True enough, sir, but I am pretty close to it this time. Ruth's an -angel, but she's a sensible woman as well. She made me put everything -down." - -"If I settle the claims against you"--the young man looked up with a -flush on his face--"you will get into debt again." - -"I'll try not to, sir." - -"Honestly, Mr. Storndale?" - -"Honestly, Mr. Cohen. Ruth will keep me straight." - -"Leave me your address. I will come and see you to-night at eight -o'clock. Make out a clear and truthful list of your debts; omit -nothing. Meanwhile----" - -He wrote a cheque, and handed it to the young man, who received it in -astonishment, which deepened when he saw the amount for which it was -drawn. He was in no way prepared for such liberality and such a -reception as he had met with. - -"I don't know how to thank you, sir." - -"Take care of Ruth. Be kind and considerate to her." - -"I will do my best, sir." - -He shook hands gratefully with Aaron, and with a light heart went to -gladden his young wife with the good news. - - - - - CHAPTER XL. - - A DUTY PERFORMED. - - -Before Mr. Moss rejoined him, Aaron had repented of his promise to -call and see the young couple in the evening. This vacillation was a -proof of the effect recent events had had upon his mind; it was really -unbalanced; the prompt decision of all matters, whether great or -small, which presented themselves for consideration, seemed to have -deserted him. He felt that he could not depend upon himself in the -promised interview with Ruth, and that he might precipitate a -discovery, the proper time for which, he believed, had not yet -arrived. That it would have to be made eventually was certain; truth -and justice demanded it, and the claim should be met, but not to-day, -not until other plans with respect to his future were settled. For -there had already grown in his mind a conviction that he was not -worthy of the position he held among his co-religionists, that it was -his duty to retire into obscurity, and not presume to teach what -should be done in important issues where he himself had so signally -failed. He mentally asked why had he not recognised this earlier; and -the answer that trod upon the heels of the question brought a pitiful -smile of self-despisal to his lips. He had been living deliberately in -an atmosphere of deceit, trusting to chance to avoid detection and -exposure. He could lay blame upon no other shoulders than his own; he, -and he alone, was responsible for the consequences of his acts. Well, -he would not shrink from them, he would accept them humbly, and rest -his hopes in the mercy of God. If, when the hour arrived for open -confession--and arrive it must before many weeks were past--he could -still retain the love of his wife, if she would forgive him for the -deception he had practised, he would be content, he might even be -happy again, fallen as he would be from his high estate. Meanwhile -there lay upon him the obligation of lifting Ruth and her husband from -poverty, of placing them in an honourable and independent position, -and this task he would ask his friend Mr. Moss to undertake for him. - -"All is explained," he said, when that gentleman re-entered the room. -"Ruth has done what cannot be undone. She and Mr. Storndale are -married." - -"Married!" exclaimed Mr. Moss. He was startled at the news, but no -less startled at the calm voice in which it was communicated to him. -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"Accept it," replied Aaron; "there is no alternative." - -"It is an outrage. He should be made to suffer for it." - -"He must not be made to suffer for it, nor must Ruth. Apart from the -personal consideration of the matter so far as it affects myself, and -from another consideration which doubtless is in your mind, Mr. -Storndale has acted as honourably as we could expect from one in his -position. There has been concealment and deception, but it is not for -me to cast a stone against him. The young man is in difficulties, and -I have resolved to clear him from them, and to provide for Ruth's -future. They will expect to see me to-night; but I cannot trust -myself. I wish you to undertake the task for me, and to carry the -whole matter through. Mr. Moss, all through my life you have been my -sincere friend, and I value your friendship; you will not fail me -now?" - -"No, Cohen, no; I will do whatever you wish me to do; but it is hardly -what I expected of you." - -"You are surprised that I do not show anger at this marriage, that I -do not express resentment against Mr. Storndale?" - -"I am." - -"Before long," said Aaron, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, -"you will understand why I am so calm. I can trust you, and when I -confess that there was in my life an hour when temptation assailed me -and I fell before it, I feel that my confidence will be respected -until the time arrives when all the world will know what is hidden in -my breast, what has been hidden for the last twenty years." - -"For the last twenty years! Cohen, that takes us back to the old -Gosport days!" - -"It does. But ask me no questions now, for I am not prepared to answer -them. Great changes are coming in my life, and I must arm myself to -meet them. If only Rachel will forgive!" - -He covered his eyes with his hand, and turned away. - -"Cohen," said Mr. Moss presently, "I see that you are unstrung, that -you are suffering. You are doing yourself an injustice; I am sure of -it, I am sure of it. I do not pretend to understand what it is that -distresses you, but I would like to say that you may depend upon me in -any difficulty. You may turn against yourself, but you are not going -to turn an old friend like me against you." - -Aaron pressed Mr. Moss's hand, and then explained the task he wished -performed. Mr. Moss was to call upon Ruth and her husband, and obtain -from them an honest and faithful account of their position. This done, -he was to pay every shilling the young man owed; after which a -settlement of a thousand pounds a year was to be made upon Ruth as a -marriage portion, the money to be absolutely at her own disposal. - -"It is not a great deal," said Aaron, "for a gentleman, the son of a -peer, to live upon; but his family in a little while, when they learn -the truth about Ruth"--he paused, and Mr. Moss nodded gravely; a -strange suspicion was beginning to haunt him--"may be disposed to -forgive him, and through their influence he may obtain a lucrative -appointment. From the way in which he spoke I am disposed to think -that he may turn over a new leaf, and that an honourable future may -lie before him and Ruth. Give her my love, and say that circumstances -render it impossible for me to see her for a few days, and that when -we meet I shall have something of great importance to disclose to her. -Be patient with me, Mr. Moss. My words point to a mystery which will -soon be public property. What you are about to do for me can scarcely -be finished before the end of the week, but I cannot rest until it is -finished. My own affairs will entirely occupy me, and I must run down -to Bournemouth to see Rachel." - -"I will not waste a moment," said Mr. Moss. "How about the money -necessary for the settlement and the payment of Mr. Storndale's debts? -Have you calculated how much it will cost you? A large sum, Cohen." - -"It will be forthcoming; the means will be placed in your hands -to-morrow. Do not return here tonight. Come and breakfast with me at -nine in the morning." - -Aaron sat up till long past midnight, making calculations, and -arranging his affairs. He was quite resolved to retire from public -life, and altogether from business; and to effect this there was much -to do. He had uncompleted contracts in hand which he would transfer to -employers of whose methods he approved, and he had just obtained -another which a dozen contractors would be eager to take off his -hands. He thought of Mr. Poynter, and shook his head. To such a man he -could not entrust any of his responsibilities. Then he devoted himself -to an examination of his private financial position. - -After providing for Ruth he calculated that he could realise a sum of -about ninety thousand pounds, in addition to which there were his -house and furniture, which would realise another ten thousand. One -third of this would be sufficient to provide for Ruth and her husband, -one third should be divided among the Jewish charities, and one third -should be invested for himself and Rachel. This would produce an -income of between eight and nine hundred pounds, amply sufficient for -the maintenance of a comfortable home either in London or the country. - -"Rachel will be content," he thought; "and the years that are left to -us shall be passed in peace, away from the turmoil and fever of life. -If she will but forgive me--if she will but forgive!" - -All depended upon that. - -He held offices of honour in the synagogue which he would immediately -resign; there and then he wrote his letters of resignation. There had -been a time when he was called upon to support a movement in respect -of these honourable offices. A man who had grown rich by usury and -fraud had succeeded in getting himself nominated for a high position -in the synagogue, and this had aroused the displeasure of the more -respectable members of the community, who had enlisted Aaron on their -side. His all-powerful influence had settled the question, and the -usurer was taught a salutary lesson. From that time a strict watch was -kept upon these dignities, which were conferred upon none whose past -lives would not bear strict scrutiny. Aaron thought of this as he drew -forth the address upon modern Judaism he had undertaken to deliver, -hoping thereby to counteract the loose views of religious obligations -which threatened to sap the foundations of the old faith. He read the -powerful arguments he had written to this end, and sighed as he read. - -"Not for me the task," he murmured. "Not for me. I am not worthy. It -is for me to learn, not to teach." - -He tore the manuscript and burned it; he had forfeited the right to -show his brethren the path of duty. - -At length he came to the end of his labours. Before he retired to rest -he prayed long and fervently, and offered up supplications for -forgiveness. - -At nine o'clock in the morning Mr. Moss presented himself, and -reported what he had done. - -"Everything is in such straight order," he said, "that the whole -business can be finished to-morrow." - -"It will be a great weight off my mind," said Aaron, "when all the -papers are signed. I have letters from Rachel and Esther." He passed -the young girl's letter to Mr. Moss. "She says there is no change in -Rachel, but that she thinks the air and change of scene are doing her -good. If you write to Esther do not hint at any impending trouble, and -do not mention Ruth's name, lest Rachel should suspect that something -was wrong. I ought to tell you, Mr. Moss, that I have resolved to -retire into private life; I shall be much happier, and I am sure -Rachel will be. It is a sudden resolution, and I daresay my friends -will be surprised; but I am fixed, nothing can induce me to change my -mind." - -"And your contracts, Cohen?" asked Mr. Moss, who was sufficiently -familiar with Aaron's character to know that remonstrance at present -would be thrown away. - -"I shall transfer them. My earnest wish is that I shall be forgotten, -and allowed to live in peace. I am growing old; let my place, which I -unworthily hold, be occupied by a better man." - -"That is hardly likely to come to pass," said Mr. Moss, gravely. "You -are not old; you are in the prime of life, with very many years of -usefulness before you. But I will not argue with you; when you have -recovered from your depression, when Rachel is well again, you will -think better of it. We need you; no other man can fill your place, and -you will not be allowed to retire without remonstrance. But we will -wait till Sunday, when you are to deliver your address upon 'Judaism, -its Duties and Obligations.' After it is delivered it will be printed -in pamphlet form, will it not?" - -"No; it will be neither delivered nor printed." - -"Cohen!" exclaimed Mr. Moss, amazed at this statement. - -"It is as I say, Mr. Moss," said Aaron, firmly. - -"But it is expected; it is looked forward to, and the best results are -anticipated from it. You will not go from your word?" - -"I must. The address is destroyed. I must bear whatever is said of me; -I accept it as part of my punishment." - -"Of your punishment! I do not understand you." - -"You will by-and-by. Mr. Moss, the man who presumes to set down laws -of right and wrong should be above reproach. Can a thief preach -honesty? Can a liar lift his voice in praise of truth?" - -"These are strange utterances, Cohen, from your lips." - -"There is a sad foundation for them. To know yourself--that is the -height of human wisdom; and I have learned too late. Pray do not -continue the subject; you stand in the dark, I in the light." - -"Well, well," said Mr. Moss, with a sigh, "we will speak of this -another time. But I do not see what you can have to reproach yourself -with." - -"Let every man search his own heart," replied Aaron, and his voice was -very mournful. "He will find the answer there. And now we will waste -no more time in idle conversation. We must go to the lawyers and the -bank. Have you a list of Mr. Storndale's debts? Ah, thank you." He -looked at the total, and drew a cheque for the amount. "The payment of -these claims will keep you busy during the day. I will give -instructions to the lawyers to prepare the deed of settlement, and -tomorrow it can be signed. You will be a trustee; I will call upon a -gentleman who will be the other. I shall spend to-night at -Bournemouth, and will come back by an early train in the morning." - -"Will you not see Ruth before you leave?" asked Mr. Moss. - -"No, not till everything is finished. How is she?" - -"Well and happy, and overjoyed that you are not angry with her. -Between ourselves, Cohen, it is not what she expected." Under his -breath he added, "Nor what I expected, either." - -"She has all the more reason for contentment," said Aaron. "I wish her -to be happy." - -They had a busy time with lawyers, stockbrokers, bank managers, and -creditors, and Aaron just managed to catch the two-twenty train for -Bournemouth. He passed a quiet evening with Rachel and Esther, and -answered such questions put by his wife concerning Ruth in a manner -which seemed to satisfy her, for she did not press him upon the -subject. With Esther he had a private conversation, and cautioned her -to preserve silence as to the letter she had received. On the -following morning he took train for London, and arriving before noon, -found everything prepared for a final settlement of his plans for -Ruth's worldly future. When the deeds were signed, and the consols -bought and deposited in the Bank of England, Aaron breathed more -freely. He had made some small atonement to Ruth for the deception of -which he had been guilty. - -"We have had no honeymoon trip," said the Honourable Percy Storndale -to him, "and I am thinking of taking Ruth to the Continent tomorrow." - -"Yes," said Aaron, absently. - -"But," added Mr. Storndale, "the trip will have no pleasure for her if -she does not see you before we go." - -"I will come with you now," said Aaron. - -They met and parted without any warm expression of affection. Such a -demonstration from Ruth towards one whom she believed to be her -father, but for whom she had never entertained a strong love, would -have been a new feature in her character, and grateful as she was for -his generosity she was held back by the feeling that she had given him -a poor return for his life-long kindness towards her, and by her fear -that he was quietly angry with her; while Aaron was held back by the -consciousness of his wrong-doing. And so the young couple went forth -to commence their new life, and the secret of Ruth's birth was still -unrevealed. - - - - - CHAPTER XLI. - - THERE IS A PROVIDENCE THAT SHAPES OUR ENDS. - - -Two weeks had passed away. Joseph had come and gone. In the company of -Esther and his parents he had spent three sad and happy days in -Bournemouth, happy because he was in the society of those he loved, -sad because he was so soon to part from them. Rachel's health was -improved, and it touched Aaron deeply to observe how she clung to her -son and Esther, as though she were seeking in them a recompense for -what she was losing in Ruth. He exerted himself to be bright and -cheerful, and flattered himself that he was succeeding; but, indeed, -during these days he was not the only one who was playing a part. -Rachel was also exerting herself to hide the cloud which was hanging -over her spirits because of the prolonged absence of Ruth, as to whom -both she and Aaron seemed now to have entered into a loving conspiracy -of silence. - -With Joseph Aaron was compelled to be more open, and to the young man -and his affianced he imparted the news of Ruth's secret marriage. - -"I have not yet broken it to your dear mother," said Aaron, "in -consequence of the state of her health. But she is growing stronger -every day, and when you are gone I will break it to her gently." He -turned to Esther, and said, "You stand now in Ruth's place, and in you -I also have gained a daughter. Do not let this news distress you. Be -true to each other, be steadfast to the old faith, and all will be -well. And be careful to say nothing to the dear mother. Leave that -task to me." - -The carrying out of his intention to retire into private life, and to -entirely give up the important business transactions in which he had -been engaged for so many years, rendered it necessary that he should -be in London the greater part of these two weeks; and Mr. Moss, who -was endeavouring to get his own affairs in order, was his constant -companion during this time. The private distribution of so large a sum -of money as Aaron had set apart for charity was no easy matter, and -the officers of the institutions which were the richer for his -benevolence used much persuasion to induce him to make his -benefactions public; but on this point he was resolved. The other -important matter which occupied him was the transference of his -existing contracts. His great rival, Mr. Poynter, was especially -anxious to obtain a share of this business, and with that object in -view he called upon Aaron. But the two men could not agree; it was not -a question of terms, but a question as to certain stipulations with -respect to wages and hours of labour which Aaron insisted upon. - -"Surely," protested Mr. Poynter, "you do not arrogate the right to -dictate to other employers what they shall pay their workmen?" - -"Not at all," Aaron replied, "where I am not concerned. But these -contracts are mine; numbers of the workmen have been in my employ for -years, and I must protect them." - -"Protect them!" exclaimed Mr. Poynter, angrily. "Against me!" - -"Against all," said Aaron, firmly, "who would pay workmen less than a -fair living wage, and would put too severe a strain upon bone and -muscle." - -"Bone and muscle!" cried Mr. Poynter. "Bone and fiddlesticks! You are -talking common cant, Mr. Cohen." - -The interview grew stormy, and did not last much longer. When Mr. -Poynter departed it was with a burning anger against Aaron, and with a -burning desire for revenge. From that moment he looked about for the -means of compassing this revenge. "If I could only bring him down!" he -thought, "if I could only bring him down!" - -At the end of the fortnight Aaron was in London, his labours over, and -at this time his own fortune amounted to something over forty-five -thousand pounds, a larger sum than he had anticipated would be left to -him. - -It must be mentioned that Ruth and her husband had just returned to -London, as he was informed by letter, their honeymoon trip having come -suddenly to an end in consequence of Ruth's indisposition It was she -who wrote to him, and she was so earnest in the expression of her wish -that he would come and see her, that he had sent her a telegram saying -that he would call at eight or nine o'clock, by which time he expected -to be free. He would have called earlier, but he had an appointment -with Mr. Moss at six, his intention being to make to his old friend a -full disclosure of his secret respecting Ruth. On the following day -Rachel and Esther were coming back to London, as Rachel did not wish -to remain longer in Bournemouth. - -Aaron was waiting now in his study for Mr. Moss. The cares and sorrows -of the past few months had left their mark upon him. The grey hairs -had multiplied fast, the lines in his face had deepened, and in the -kind eyes and benevolent countenance there was a touch of childlike -pathos, as though the strong man had suddenly grown weak, and was -mutely appealing for mercy. - -Mr. Moss's face was flushed with excitement as he entered the room -with an evening paper in his hand. - -"Have you heard the rumour, Cohen?" he asked, excitedly. - -"What rumour?" inquired Aaron, rising to meet his friend. - -"About your bank, the Colonial Alliance?" - -"No, I have heard nothing. I have not been out of the house since the -morning." - -"It came on me like a thunderclap, but it cannot be true." - -"What cannot be true, Mr. Moss?" Aaron spoke quite calmly. - -"Well, there's nothing definite, but you know there has been something -like a panic in the City." - -"I am aware of it, but it cannot affect me. I have no investments now, -with the solitary exception of my bank shares. All my affairs are -settled, and what is left of my fortune is in the bank until I decide -how to invest it." - -Mr. Moss groaned "I wish you had it safely tied up in consols. Is all -your money there?" - -"Every shilling. The only investments I have not realised are the -shares I hold in the bank." - -"That makes it all the worse. The shareholders are liable to the -depositors?" - -"Certainly--to the extent of the unpaid portion of their shares. -Perhaps beyond that--I am not quite sure." - -The flush had died out of Mr. Moss's face, which was now white with -apprehension. "They're calling it out in the streets; but here's the -paper." - -He pointed to a paragraph, which stated that one of the largest banks -in the City had closed its doors half an hour before its time, and -that the panic had in consequence reached an alarming height. - -"There is no name mentioned, Mr. Moss." - -"No, Cohen, no; but I passed through the City on my way here, and the -name of the bank was on every one's lips. If your bank stops payment -tomorrow how will you stand?" - -"If it stops payment for sufficient cause," said Aaron, in a steady -voice, "I shall be a ruined man." - -"Good heavens! And you can speak of it so calmly!" - -"Why not? To work myself into a frenzy will not help me. There are -worse misfortunes." - -"I cannot imagine them, Cohen. Ruined? Absolutely ruined?" - -"Absolutely ruined," answered Aaron, with a smile. - -"And it is only yesterday that you were----" He could not continue, -and Aaron took up his words. - -"It is only yesterday that I was on the top of the tree. A dangerous -height, Mr. Moss, but I must bear the fall. If, when they climb the -ladder of fortune, men would but be careful to make the lower rungs -secure! But prosperity makes them reckless. Do not look so mournful. -Happiness is as easily found in poverty as in riches." - -"It may be, after all, a false alarm," groaned Mr. Moss. - -"Let us hope so; though there is no smoke without a fire. We will wait -till to-morrow." - -"Will you not come with me to the City now to ascertain whether it is -true or false?" - -"No. It will only trouble me, and it will not affect the result. I -will wait till to-morrow." - -So marked was the contrast between his cheerful and Mr. Moss's -despondent mood that it really seemed as if it were his friend's -fortune that was imperilled instead of his own. He was standing by the -door, and hearing a knock he opened it. - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said the servant, "but this gentleman is -below, and wants to see Mr. Moss." - -Aaron took the card without looking at it, and handed it to Mr. Moss, -who exclaimed,-- - -"Dr. Spenlove! What can he want here?" - -"Show the gentleman up," said Aaron to the servant, after a moment's -consideration. - -"Had I not better see him alone?" asked Mr. Moss. - -"If you have no objection," replied Aaron, "I should prefer that you -receive him here in my presence." - -They both seemed to scent a coming danger, but Aaron appeared to hail -it gladly, while Mr. Moss would rather have avoided it. - -"A thousand apologies," said Dr. Spenlove to Aaron upon his entrance, -"for intruding upon you; but hearing that Mr. Moss had come to your -house I took the liberty of following him. My errand is an urgent -one." - -"I am happy to see you, Dr. Spenlove," Aaron responded; "if your -business with Mr. Moss is not quite private you can speak freely -before me." - -"I think," said Dr. Spenlove, half hesitating, "that it is quite -private." - -"I have a distinct reason," continued Aaron, as though Dr. Spenlove -had not spoken, "for making the suggestion; it is more than likely -that I have a distinct connection with your business, and this must be -my excuse for wishing to be present. If it is of an incident in the -past you wish to speak, when you and Mr. Moss were acquainted in -Portsmouth----" - -"How singular that you should have guessed it!" exclaimed Dr. -Spenlove. "It is such an incident that brings me here." - -"The time was winter," pursued Aaron, "the season an inclement one. I -remember it well. For some days the snow had been falling----" - -"Yes, yes. It was a terrible season for the poor." - -"For one especially, a lady driven into misfortune, and who had no -friend but a stern and honourable gentleman who would only lift her -from the depths into which she had fallen on the condition that she -submitted to a cruel sacrifice. His demand was that she should give -her infant into the care of strangers, and that only in the event of -his death should she be free to seek to know its fate. Is that the -incident, Dr. Spenlove?" - -"It is. I see you know all, and with Mr. Moss's consent I will speak -openly." Mr. Moss looked at Aaron, who nodded, and Dr. Spenlove -continued. "There is no need to recall all the particulars of that -bitter night when you so kindly assisted me in the search for the -unhappy mother and her child." - -"None at all," said Mr. Moss; "they are very vivid in my memory." - -"And in mine. Your kindness has not been forgotten either by me or by -the lady whose life, and whose child's life, were saved by you. He -shakes his head in deprecation, Mr. Cohen, but what I say is true. Had -he not, out of the kindness of his heart, accompanied me, these two -hapless human beings would have perished in the snow. I had a motive -to serve; he had none. On the night we parted in Portsmouth, Mr. -Moss, you were on the point of seeking a home for the poor babe, for -whom"--he turned to Aaron--"a liberal provision was made." - -"I am acquainted with every detail of the strange story," said Aaron. -"I was residing in Gosport at the time." - -Dr. Spenlove gave him a startled look. "It was in Gosport he hoped to -find this home, with a friend of whom he spoke in the highest terms. -The commission entrusted to me by Mr. Gordon--I perceive you are -familiar with the name--ended on that night, and what remained to be -done was in the hands of Mr. Moss and Mr. Gordon's lawyers. The -following morning I came to London, where I have resided ever since. -From that day until two or three weeks ago Mr. Moss and I have not -met. It was here in your house, Mr. Cohen, that, seeing him for the -first time after so long an interval, I made inquiries concerning the -infant entrusted to him. He informed me that she died very shortly, as -I understood, after she entered her new home. I was not surprised to -hear it; the exposure on that bitter night was sufficiently severe to -kill a child much older. In order that my visit to Mr. Moss to-night -may be properly understood I will relate in a few words the subsequent -history of the mother. She married Mr. Gordon, and accompanied him to -Australia, where she has resided for twenty years. She has had no -children by him, and is now a widow, and very wealthy. Unknown to Mr. -Gordon she, in her last interview with me, entrusted to me a small -iron casket--it was one I gave her, and I can identify it--in which -she deposited some articles, of the nature of which I was ignorant. -She entreated me to take steps that this box should be delivered to -the people who received her child into their home, and to obtain from -them a promise that if the child lived till she was twenty-one years -of age it was to be handed over to her, or, in the event of her child -dying or of herself claiming the box at any future time, to be handed -over to her. I informed Mr. Moss of the mother's desire, and he -promised that it should be attended to. I have looked over some old -papers, and I find that, had the child lived, she would be twenty-one -in the course of a couple of months. But the child is dead, and the -mother has appealed to me to obtain the box which she delivered into -my charge." - -"The mother has appealed to you!" exclaimed Aaron. "In person?" - -"In person," replied Dr. Spenlove. "She has returned to England, and -is at this moment awaiting me in my carriage below. It is not the only -appeal she has made to me. She is overwhelmed with grief at the news -of her child's death, and I have the sincerest pity for her. She -desires to know where her child is buried. Mr. Gordon's lawyers, it -appears, were so bound to secrecy by their client that they do not -feel warranted in giving her any information or assistance. She has -communicated with another firm of lawyers in London, who are unable to -assist her. As a last resource she has come to me to entreat my aid, -which, in the circumstances, I cannot refuse to give her. My errand is -now fully explained. Mr. Moss, will you see the poor lady, and give -her the information she has a right to demand?" - -"I will reply for my friend," said Aaron. "Dr. Spenlove, I was the -person to whose care the child was entrusted. The casket is in this -house, and it is for me to satisfy her. Will you step down and ask her -to come up, or shall I send a servant to her?" - -"It will be best for me to go," said Dr. Spenlove. "How strangely -things turn out! It is fortunate that I came here to seek Mr. Moss." - -"I must speak to Mrs. Gordon alone, without witnesses," said Aaron. -"You and Mr. Moss will not mind waiting in the adjoining room for a -few minutes? The poet's words are true: 'There is a Providence that -shapes our ends, rough-hew them as we will.' The mother may have cause -to bless this night." - -He bent his head humbly and solemnly as Dr. Spenlove and Mr. Moss left -the room together. - - - - - CHAPTER XLII. - - A MOTHER'S JOY. - - -For the first time in their lives these two beings, whose fates were -so strangely linked together, faced each other--the mother who -believed her child to be dead, the father who had brought up that -child in ignorance of her birthright. It was a solemn moment, as -trying to the man who had erred as to the woman who had fallen. To him -the truth was as clear as though it were proclaimed with a tongue of -fire, to her it had yet to be revealed. How feeble was the human act -when brought into juxtaposition with destiny's decree! - -Aaron's sin had been ever before him; the handwriting had been ever on -the wall. Scarcely for one day during the last twenty years had the -voice of conscience been stilled, and it had been part of his -punishment that the inherited instincts of the child had worked -inexorably against all his efforts; her silent resistance to the -lessons he would have inculcated had been too powerful for him; and in -the end she had turned resolutely from the path into which, with -inward reproaches, he had endeavoured to lead her, and had obeyed the -promptings of her nature in mapping out her own future. - -Keen as were Aaron's sufferings, he experienced a sense of relief that -the bolt had fallen, and that the hour of retribution had arrived; the -agony of suspense had been almost unbearable, and he accepted with -mournful resignation the decree which ordained that he should pass -judgment upon himself. - -A difficult task lay before him; the revelation he had to make must be -made with tact and delicacy, in consideration for the mother's -feelings. Joy, as well as sorrow, has its fears. - -Forgetful for the moment of his own domestic grief, a sympathetic pity -for the bereaved woman stirred Aaron's heart. Her tribulation was -expressed in her face, which was pale with woe; her eyes were suffused -with tears; her limbs trembled as she sank into the chair which he -placed for her. It was not he alone who was experiencing the tortures -of remorse. - -Mrs. Gordon was in mourning, and Aaron knew it was as much for her -child as for her husband. Except that time had told its tale there was -little change in her, and few persons who had known her in her -springtime would have failed to recognise her in her middle age. Her -union with Mr. Gordon had not been entirely unhappy; he had performed -his duty towards her, as she had done towards him, and though he had a -suspicion that through all the long years she never lost sight of her -secret sorrow, he made no reference to it, and she, on her part, did -not intrude it upon him. Only on his deathbed had he spoken of her -child, and had given her an imperfect clue, which she was now -following up. Bitter was the knowledge she had gained. Her child was -dead. Free, and in possession of great wealth, she was alone, without -a tie in the world. All her bright dreams had faded. She had indulged -the hope that her child still lived, and as she travelled back to -England had raised up mental pictures of her daughter which filled her -with joy. The presumption was that the young girl was living in a poor -home, and was perhaps working for a livelihood. To lift her from -poverty to wealth, to make a lady of her, to load her with gifts, to -educate her for the new and higher station in life in which she was -now to move, to love and caress her, to travel with her through the -pleasure grounds of Europe--these were the dreams in which she had -indulged. Innumerable were the pictures she had raised on her voyage -home of the joy and delight of her daughter, and of the happy days in -store for them. The information she received from Dr. Spenlove had -killed these hopes, and her yearning desire now was to visit the grave -of the babe she had deserted, and to weep over it tears of bitter -repentance. It was not so much to reclaim the iron box containing the -clue to a shameful episode in her youthful life, as to learn where her -babe was buried, that she wished to learn into whose care her child -had been given. There was a time when she nursed a fierce desire for -revenge upon the man who had betrayed her, but this desire had burnt -itself away, and she would be content that the melancholy memories of -the past should be buried in oblivion. No good result would accrue -from rekindling the smouldering ashes of an experience so mournful. -She had lived down the shame; no word of reproach had been uttered -against her; let the dead past bury its dead. - -For a few moments there was silence between her and Aaron, and she was -the first to speak. - -"Dr. Spenlove has told me all," she said. - -"He has told you what he knows," said Aaron, "but you have something -more to hear. Mrs. Gordon, it was I who undertook the charge of your -child. Mr. Moss brought her to me in Gosport, and delivered to me also -the casket which you entrusted to Dr. Spenlove. I return it to you -now, in the same condition as it was handed to me. You will oblige me -by convincing yourself that it has not been tampered with." - -She unlocked the box with a key she carried in her purse, and taking -from it the letters she had deposited therein, glanced over them with -a bitter smile, then replaced them in their hiding-place, and relocked -the casket. - -"There was nothing else in it?" asked Aaron. - -"Nothing else," she replied; "it is as I delivered it to Dr. Spenlove. -Tell me about my child. Did she live long? Was she buried in Gosport? -You will tell me the truth; you will conceal nothing from me?" - -"I will tell you the truth; I will conceal nothing from you; but what -I have to say must be said in my own way. Prepare yourself for a -strange story, but have no fear. You are the first person to whom it -will be revealed. When Mr. Moss left your child with me there were two -babes in my house of the same age, and we were in deep poverty and -distress. My wife--my beloved wife lay at the point of death"--he -covered his eyes with his hands. "Bear with me; these recollections -overcome me." Presently he resumed. "But a short time before her -confinement she had been stricken with blindness. Her own child, whose -face she had never seen, lay quiet and still in her arms. The doctor -who attended her feared the worst, and said that her life depended -upon the life of her babe. If our child died on the morrow the mother -would die; if our child lived, the mother would live. Temptation -assailed me, and to save the life of my beloved wife I yielded to it. -How can I expect you to forgive me for what I did in the agony of my -heart?" - -Again he paused, and tears gushed from his eyes. Mrs. Gordon sank back -in her chair; there was not a vestige of colour in her face. - -"My God! My God!" she murmured. "Have I not suffered enough?" - -The words recalled him to himself. He begged her to have courage, to -be strong; there was no new suffering in store for her, he said; what -he had to relate would bring joy into her life. He gave her wine, and -when she had recovered he proceeded with his story, and gradually and -tenderly revealed to her the truth. As he proceeded her face shone -with incredulous joy, her heart beat tumultuously with the prospect of -this unexpected happiness; and when his story was finished, and he sat -before her with bowed head, there was a long, long silence in the -room. He dared utter no further words; in silent dread he waited for -his condemnation. - -He felt a hand upon his knee, and looking down he saw her kneeling at -his feet. She was transfigured; the spirit of youth shone in her -countenance, and she took his hand, and kissed it again and again, -bedewing it with happy tears. He gazed at her in wonder. He had -expected revilings, and she was all tenderness. - -"Is it true?" she murmured. "Oh! is it true? At such a time as this -you would not deceive me!" - -"Heaven forbid!" he answered. "What I have related is the solemn -truth." - -"And my child lives?" - -"She lives." - -"God in heaven bless you! She lives--my daughter lives!" - -"And you do not blame me--you do not reproach me?" - -"I shall bless you to my dying day! Oh, my heart, my heart! It will -burst with happiness!" - -He entreated her to be composed, and in a little while she was calmer. -Then for the first time he wrested himself from the environment of his -own selfish sorrows; he put himself in her place, and understood the -sacred joy which animated her. She was all eagerness to see her child, -but Aaron bade her restrain her impatience; he had much more to relate -which it was necessary she should hear. - -"But I must see her to-night!" she cried. - -"You shall see her to-night. I will take you to her." - -She was fain to be satisfied with this assurance, but she would not be -content till she saw a portrait of Ruth. He gave her a cabinet -photograph, and she gazed at it longingly, yearningly. - -"She is beautiful, beautiful!" - -"Yes, she is a beautiful girl," said Aaron; and then proceeded with -the story, saying nothing, however, of what he had done for the young -couple. At first she was grieved to hear that Ruth was married, but -she found some consolation in the reflection that she had married into -an honourable family. When Aaron related the particulars of the -lawyer's visit to him, commissioned by Lord Storndale because of his -stern objection to his son marrying a Jewess, she exclaimed,-- - -"But Ruth is not a Jewess!" and was appalled by the thought that her -daughter was not born in wedlock. A child of shame! How would she be -received? It was her turn now to fear, and Aaron, whose native -shrewdness had returned to him, divined her fear; but it was not for -him to moot the subject. - -"My child," she said, with hot blushes on her face, "believes herself -to be your daughter?" - -"She does. It was my intention to undeceive her to-night." - -"You know my story?" - -"It was imparted to me," he replied, with averted head, "when I was -asked to receive your child." - -"Who knows the truth," she asked, trembling and hesitating, "about -me?" - -"I, Mr. Moss, Dr. Spenlove, and your husband's lawyers." - -"No other persons?" - -"No other persons." He took her hand. "Dear lady, from my heart I pity -and sympathise with you. If I can assist you in any way----" - -"You can--you can!" she cried. "For God's sake do not destroy the -happiness that may be mine!" - -"As Heaven is my judge, no word shall pass my lips. Be comforted, be -comforted. The lawyers' lips are sealed, as you have already learned, -and I will answer for Mr. Moss and Dr. Spenlove. Say to her and to her -husband's family what you will--it will be justified. Your secret is -safe." - -She thanked him humbly and gratefully; it was she who was abashed; it -was she who had to implore for mercy; and it was due to his wisdom -that her aching heart was eased. - -"If I can repay you--if I can repay you!" she murmured. - -"You can repay me by saying you forgive me for the sin I committed." - -"Your sin!" she cried, in amazement. "You, who have brought up my -child in virtue and honour! At my door lies the sin, not at yours." - -"You forget," he groaned; "I have sinned against my wife, whom I love -with a love dearer than life itself, and she has yet to receive the -confession I have made to you. It was my love for her that led me into -the error." - -"An error," said Mrs. Gordon, in tender accents, "that has saved a -daughter from regarding her mother with abhorrence. Dear friend, God -sees and judges, and surely He will approve what you have done. A -grateful mother blesses you!" - -"Remain here," said Aaron. "I will speak to my friends and yours, and -then I will conduct you to your daughter." - - - - - CHAPTER XLIII. - - A PANIC IN THE CITY. - - -On the following morning Aaron was up earlier than usual, and in the -daily papers he read the confirmation of the intelligence which Mr. -Moss had imparted to him. The panic on the Stock Exchange had grown to -fever heat, and fortunes were already being won and lost. The bank in -which his money was deposited, and in which he held a large number of -shares, was tottering, and he knew that he was ruined if it could not -weather the storm. - -Mr. Moss found him reading the news over his breakfast-table. -Business, as we know, had not prospered with Mr. Moss of late years; -his investments had turned out badly, and he was in low water himself. -He had placed his dependence upon Aaron to pull him through, and the -rock he had depended upon was crumbling away. - -"You are also in trouble, Mr. Moss," said Aaron, as his friend made -his appearance. - -"I have brought the second edition of the morning papers," replied Mr. -Moss, with a white face. "The Stock Exchange is in a blaze, and the -world is coming to an end." - -"There will be misery in many homes," said Aaron. "It is the innocent -who will chiefly suffer. I pity them sincerely." - -"Everything is going to the dogs," groaned Mr. Moss. - -"Have you breakfasted?" - -"Had breakfast at seven o'clock. Couldn't sleep a wink all night, and -could hardly eat a mouthful!" - -"Why?" - -"Why?" exclaimed Mr. Moss. "What a question to ask when ruin stares a -man in the face!" - -"I hope," said Aaron, gravely, "that you are not deeply involved." - -"I am up to my neck. But what is my position compared with yours? -Cohen, you are a mystery." - -"Because I accept the inevitable? Can you show me how I can improve -matters?" - -"No, I can't," answered Mr. Moss, with a deep groan; "only if I had -capital I could make a fortune." - -"In what way?" - -"By joining the bears. Cohen, you have a grand chance before you. Your -credit is good. There is nothing for it but a plunge. It will set you -right. Luck has been with you all your life; it will be with you now." - -"How if it goes the other way, Mr. Moss?" - -"What if it does? You will be no worse off than a thousand men who are -plunging." - -"The majority of whom, before another sun rises, will find themselves -disgraced. No, Mr. Moss, no. I have never dabbled in stocks and shares -at the risk of my good name, and I never will. There is but one way to -meet misfortune, and that is the straight way. We will go to the City -and ascertain, if we can, exactly how matters stand. Rachel and Esther -do not return from Bournemouth till the afternoon." - -In the City they learned the worst, and Aaron realised that he was -beggared. - -"Can you save nothing from the wreck?" asked Mr. Moss. - -"Nothing," replied Aaron. "It may be that all I possess will not be -sufficient to clear me. I think you had better take Esther back with -you to Portsmouth; you have been absent from your business too long." - -"I must go this evening," said Mr. Moss; "but Esther can stay. She -will be a comfort to Mrs. Cohen." - -"No, take her with you. In this crisis Rachel, I know, would prefer to -be alone with me. Besides," he added, with a sad smile, "I have to -provide another home, and I must be careful of my shillings." - -"Another home, Cohen! What do you mean?" - -"With certain ruin staring me in the face, and with claims coming upon -me which I may not be able to meet, I must begin immediately to -retrench. Our establishment is an expensive one, and I dare not carry -it on a day longer than is necessary. Rachel and I will sleep in the -house to-night for the last time. To-morrow I will pay off the -servants, and we shall move into humbler quarters. So tumble down all -our grand castles. Well, it has happened to better men, who, after -many years of toil, have to begin life all over again. Rachel will not -mind; we have faced poverty before to-day, and will face it again -cheerfully." - -"It drives me wild to hear you speak like that," exclaimed Mr. Moss. -"You are looking only on the black side. If you had the money you have -got rid of the last two or three weeks----" - -"Hush, Mr. Moss, hush!" said Aaron, interrupting him. "It is a -consolation to me to know that the greater part of my legitimately -earned fortune has been so well bestowed. I am glad I did not wait to -make reparation for the great error of my life. Rachel has yet to hear -my confession. If I obtain her forgiveness I can face the future -bravely and cheerfully." - -Under the seal of confidence Aaron had made Mr. Moss and Dr. Spenlove -acquainted with the particulars of the story of the two babes, and of -the deception he had practised in his home in Gosport. Mr. Moss was -not greatly astonished, for the hints lately dropped by his friend had -prepared him for some disclosure of a strange nature. "Besides," he -said inwardly to himself, "Ruth bears no likeness to either Mr. or -Mrs. Cohen. It is a mercy she fell in love with that Storndale fellow; -it would never have done for her to marry a Jew. Cohen would not have -permitted it. But how blind we have all been!" In his weak moments Mr. -Moss was rather inclined to be wise after the event. Both he and Dr. -Spenlove had pledged themselves to secrecy, but when they proceeded to -commend Aaron for the act and to find justification for it he stopped -them. "It is a matter between me and my conscience," he said, and -added mentally, "and between me and my beloved." - -On this disastrous morning, as they walked from the City, Mr. Moss -asked Aaron when he intended to reveal the secret to his wife. - -"As soon as I can summon courage to speak," Aaron answered. "She has -first to hear that we are beggared; it will be as much, perhaps, as -she can bear in one day, but in any case I must not delay too long." - -"If I were in your place," said Mr. Moss, "I should not delay at all. -There are women who become strong through misfortune, and Mrs. Cohen -is one. I wish Mrs. Moss were like her--don't think I am complaining -of her. She is the best wife in the world, but she breaks down under -reverses. If only I could be of some assistance to you, Cohen----" - -"Your friendship counts for much, Mr. Moss," responded Aaron, pressing -his companion's hand, "but every man must fight his own battle. I am -not without hope, hard as is the trial through which I am passing. It -is kind of you to be so solicitous about my affairs when you have such -heavy troubles of your own to contend with. Are things very bad with -you?" - -"Oh, I shall weather the storm, but it will leave me rather crippled. -What matters? _Nil desperandum_. And there is just one ray which may -become a perfect sunbeam." - -"Ah, I am glad to hear that." - -"My eldest boy has started in business as a dentist, and has commenced -well. Once a dentist makes his name the money rolls in. It is a -favourite business with our people." - -"Yes," said Aaron, somewhat absently, "I have observed it." - -"It is a kind of revenge, Cohen." - -"A kind of revenge!" echoed Aaron. "How so?" - -"Well, you know, in old times the Christians used to extract our teeth -to get our money from us, and now it's our turn. We extract theirs at -a guinea a tooth. See?" - -Aaron could not help smiling at the joke, and the friends parted with -mutual expressions of goodwill. - - - - - CHAPTER XLIV. - - THE CONFESSION. - - -On the evening of the same day Aaron and Rachel were alone in their -house in Prince's Gate, which was soon to know them no more. Esther -had taken an affectionate leave of them, and she and her father were -travelling to Portsmouth. Esther was bright and cheerful, but Mr. -Moss's heart was heavy; he was older than Aaron, and confident as he -was in speech he was not inwardly so courageous in the hour of -adversity. Ordinarily, when he and his daughter were travelling -together, his blithe spirits found vent in song; on this occasion, -however, he was moody and silent. Esther looked at him in surprise, -and asked what made him so melancholy. - -"When you reach my age," he replied, "I hope you will not discover -that life is a dream." - -The remark seemed to him rather fine and philosophical, and afforded -him some kind of melancholy satisfaction; but had he been asked to -explain its precise meaning he would have found it difficult to do so. - -"I hope I shall, father," said Esther, as she leant back and thought -of her lover; "a happy dream." - -"I am glad to get back to you and to our dear home," Rachel was saying -to her husband at the same moment. "You must not send me away again. -Indeed, dear Aaron, if you ever have such an intention I shall for -once in my life be rebellious, and shall refuse to go. I am happiest -by your side." - -She spoke tenderly and playfully, and held his hand in hers, as in the -olden days. - -"Nevertheless, my love, your short visit to the seaside has done you -good." - -"Yes, dear, I am almost well; I feel much stronger." - -"There is the justification," said Aaron. "Neither am I happy away -from you, but there are occasions when it is our duty to make -sacrifices. This is the longest separation there has been between us -in the twenty-six years of our married life." - -"How time has flown!" she mused. "Twenty-six years of peace and joy. -It has always been the same, dear husband, whether we were poor or -rich. I cannot recall a day in the past without its flower of dear -remembrance which money could not purchase." - -"You make my task easier, Rachel," said Aaron. "I have something to -disclose to you." - -"And it is not good news, love," she said, in a tone of much -sweetness. - -"It is not good news, Rachel. By what means have you divined that?" - -"I see without eyes. In the early days of my blindness I used to tell -you that I was acquiring new senses. It is true. Some accent in your -voice, the touch of your hand, conveys the message to my mind, and I -wait in patience, as I am waiting now. Aaron, my dear husband, I have -known for some time past that you have a sorrow which one day you -would ask me to share. How have I known it? I cannot tell, but it is -clear to me. You have not had a joy in your life apart from me. It is -my right, is it not, to share your sorrows?" - -"It is your right, Rachel, and you shall share them. I have not been -without my errors; once in the past my footsteps strayed, but in the -straying I inflicted suffering upon no human being." - -"Of that I am sure, my love. It is human to err, but it is not in your -nature to inflict suffering or commit an injustice. I am not pressing -you to confide in me before in your judgment the proper time arrives. -Nothing can shake my faith and trust in you." - -He regarded her in silence awhile. The turn the conversation had taken -favoured the disclosure of his secret respecting Ruth, but he still -feared to speak of that and of his ruin in the same hour. The latter -was the more imperative, because it demanded immediate action, and he -nerved himself to the task. - -"Your loving instinct, Rachel, has not misled you. For many years I -have had a secret which I have concealed from you." - -"Fearing to give me pain, dear husband?" - -"Yes; and fearing that it would disturb the faith you have in me. I -place so high a value upon it that my life would be dark indeed were I -to lose it." - -"That is impossible, dear. Banish the fear from your mind. Were the -hands of all men raised against you I would stand before you as your -shield, and they would not dare to strike. So long as we are together -I am happy and content." - -"Dear life of my life, you inspire me with hope. But it is not of this -secret I must speak first. There is another trouble which has come -upon me quite suddenly, and which demands immediate action. Rachel, -for twenty years Heaven has showered prosperity upon me; not a venture -I have made has failed, and many of my undertakings have succeeded far -beyond my expectations. I have heard it said, 'Everything Aaron Cohen -touches turns to gold.' It really has been so. I accumulated a large -fortune, and--with humbleness I say it--no man, however high or low -his station, was the loser by it. But a breath may destroy what the -labours of a lifetime have created. If such a reverse has come to me, -Rachel, how would you accept it?" - -"Without murmuring, love," she said, drawing him close to her, and -kissing his lips. "I should have but one regret--that I could not work -for you as you have worked for me. But that, also, was God's will, and -I have never repined. Who would presume to question His wisdom? His -name be praised for ever and ever!" - -"Amen. In our old home in Gosport you were happy." - -"I have never been happier, Aaron. I have sometimes felt pride in your -successes, but surely that is pardonable. Many and many a time have I -thought of our early life and struggles with gratitude, because of the -love which sustained us and gave us strength. It is the most precious -gift that life can bestow. All else is nought. It is our soul-life, -and dies not with the body." - -"You do not value money, Rachel?" - -"For the good it may do to others, not for the good it can do to the -possessor; for the suffering it may be made the means of relieving, -for the blessings it may bring into the lives of the afflicted and -unfortunate. Then it becomes God-like, and when so used the angels -smile approval." - -"Dear love, you lighten my burden. When I won you my life was blessed. -Listen, Rachel. This is a dark day for many men who find themselves -fallen from their high estate. Despair sits in many homes at this -hour." - -"But not in ours, Aaron, whatever has happened." - -"Thank God! It is my happy belief that this hour is not dark for us. -It was my intention, Rachel, to retire altogether from business and -public life, and to that end I took advantage of your absence from -London to settle my affairs. My resolution was prompted by the secret, -the burden of which, although I have not yet disclosed it to you, you -have made lighter for me to reveal. Brought to public knowledge, which -I fear its peculiar nature will render inevitable, it will be -immediately said that I am unfitted to retain my position as a leader -and teacher. To tarry until that judgment was pronounced upon me would -be to aggravate the disaster, and I resolved to anticipate the verdict -by resigning the honours which have been conferred upon me. I have -done so, and I have withstood the pressure that has been put upon me -to withdraw my resignation. An examination of my worldly affairs -resulted in my finding myself in possession of nearly a hundred -thousand pounds. I divided this into three portions, one of which I -intended to retain in order that we might pass what years of life -remained to us in comfort; the second portion I devoted to charity, -and it has thus been distributed; the third portion was devoted to -repairing to some extent the error of which I have been guilty." - -He looked at Rachel after he uttered these words, which he had spoken -with averted head. There was no change in her. Sweetness and sympathy -were expressed in her beautiful face, and it seemed as if her soul's -light dwelt thereon. - -"Do you approve, Rachel?" - -"Entirely, love. Let me hold your hand." - -He continued. "The money I intended for our private use was lodged in -a City bank, and in this bank I hold shares for which I am liable to -the depositors. Yesterday Mr. Moss brought me news of a commercial -crisis in which I discerned----" - -"Go on, dear husband. I am prepared for the worst." - -"In which I discerned my ruin. This morning I convinced myself that -the news was true." - -"And we are poor again," said Rachel, in a gentle voice. - -"And we are poor again. Everything is lost. I do not know the extent of -my liabilities upon the shares I hold in the bank, but it is certain -that my property--even down to the smallest possession--will scarcely -be sufficient to meet them. I have nothing more to tell of my worldly -trouble, Rachel." - -"Dear love," said Rachel, sweetly, with her arms around him, "it is a -small trouble, and we will meet it bravely. With all my heart and -strength I will help you to meet it, and it will not make the future -less happy. We cannot remain in this house; the expenses are too -great." - -"You echo my thought, Rachel. I have already discharged the servants, -and have paid what is due to them. They expressed their sorrow, for I -think they have an affection for us, but the separation is -unavoidable. To-morrow they take their departure, and to-morrow, dear -love, we must move into humbler quarters." - -"I am content," said Rachel, "I am happy. We have each other. Do all -the servants go--all?" - -"No; one insists upon remaining. I could not convince her that it -would be for her good to leave us." - -"Prissy!" cried Rachel. - -"Yes, Prissy, the foolish woman. With or without my consent she -insists upon sharing our poverty." - -"Dear, faithful Prissy! Do you remember the first night she came to us -in Gosport? What changes there have been since that time! Let it be as -she wishes, love; I know her constant, devoted nature. She will be a -comfort to both of us." - -"It shall be as you say, Rachel; a faithful heart like hers is a -treasure." - -Rachel paused before she spoke again, and Aaron, gazing upon her, held -his breath, for he divined what was coming. She took his hand, and -held it between her own. - -"Kiss me, love," she said, her voice trembling from emotion. He -pressed his lips to hers in silence. "I have been a great trouble to -you, dear." - -"You have been the blessing of my life, Rachel," he said in a low -tone. - -"Not only your love, dear, but the thought that you believed me worthy -of your confidence, has brought great sweetness into mine. You have -made me truly happy; and yet, dear husband, my heart is aching--not -for myself, not because we are poor again, but for you, for you; for -your heart, also, is charged with sorrow. We commence a new life -to-morrow, and it affects not ourselves alone, but those who are dear -to us. Let this night end your sorrows, and let me share them now, -before I sleep. Aaron, not once have you mentioned the name of Ruth. -Is it the thought of her that oppresses you? It oppresses me, too, and -it is no new grief. For a long time past I have felt as if something -had come between us, weakening the tie which should unite mother and -child. If anything has been hidden from me which I should know, let it -be hidden no longer. I am well, I am strong. Give me all your -confidence. There is nothing I cannot bear for your dear sake." - -He could not resist the appeal. In a voice as tremulous as her own he -related the story of his sin. He recalled all the incidents of their -life in Gosport, of the calamities which had trodden upon each others' -heels, of the desperate state of poverty he was in when the fire -occurred which deprived her of sight, of the birth of their child, of -the doctor's words that Rachel's life depended upon the life of her -babe and upon his taking her away to a warmer clime, of his giving her -the sleeping draught and leaving her, wrapt in slumber, to admit Mr. -Moss who had come from Portsmouth charged with a startling commission, -the acceptance of which would be the saving of Rachel, of his -reluctance to accept the guardianship of a strange child, and of his -requesting time to consider it. Here he faltered; he stood, as it -were, upon the threshold of his sin, and but for Rachel's tender -urging he would have been unable to proceed. - -"Dear love, dear love," she said, "my heart bleeds for you! Ah, how -you must have suffered! Be strong, dear husband, and tell me all. I am -prepared--indeed, indeed I am!" - -In hushed and solemn tones he told her of the death of their -offspring, of the desperate temptation that assailed him, of his -yielding to it, of the transposition of the babes, and of his agony -and joy as he watched her when she awoke and pressed the stranger to -her breast. - -"By my sin you were saved," he said. - -"By your agony was I saved," she murmured, and still retained and -fondled his hand while the tears ran down her face. But love was there -in its divinest aspect, and tenderest pity; and thus fortified, he -continued to the end, and waited for the verdict that was to mar or -make his future. He had not long to wait. Rachel held him close in her -embrace, and mingled her tears with his. - -"Can you forgive me, Rachel?" - -"It is for me to bless, not to forgive," she sobbed. "For me you -strayed, for me you have suffered. Comfort his bruised heart, O -all-merciful God, who sees and judges! And, Aaron, dear and honoured -husband, we have still a son to bless our days!" - - - - - CHAPTER XLV. - - A POISONED ARROW. - - -Had it not been that public attention was directed mainly to events of -greater importance Aaron Cohen's affairs would have furnished a -liberal theme for the busy hunters of sensational and personal -journalism, but to a certain extent he was protected by the fever of -the financial panic in which numbers of unfortunate families were -caught and ruined, and the fortunes of famous historic houses -imperilled. He would have been grateful to slip into obscurity -unnoticed, but this could scarcely be expected. He had occupied too -high a station to be passed over in complete silence, and he had one -bitter enemy, Mr. Poynter, who rejoiced in his downfall and neglected -no opportunity to wing a poisoned arrow against his old rival. This -man was furious with disappointment at having been unable to secure -his rival's contracts, and when the excitement of the panic was over -these arrows became more numerous, and Aaron's name was frequently -mentioned in a slighting manner in those second- and third-class -journals whose columns are too freely open to personal spite and -malice. He saw but few of the paragraphs in which he was attacked, and -those he read did not wound him; they made his friends angry (for he -was not deserted by all), and they urged him to reply to them; but he -shook his head, and said, "I shall not assist my enemies to stir up -muddy waters. To every word I wrote they would reply with twelve. Let -them do their worst." He was, however, greatly concerned lest the -slanders should reach Rachel's knowledge; and here her blindness aided -him. Either he or the faithful Prissy was ever by her side, and if his -traducers hoped to make him suffer through the being whose love was -the most precious jewel in his life, they were doomed to -disappointment. Perhaps Aaron had never been happier than he was -during these dark days of adversity. Now that the weight of a secret -sin was lifted from his heart he had no fears of poverty. He had full -confidence in his being able to obtain some employment which would -keep the wolf from the door; however lowly it might be he was ready to -accept it thankfully. He was not immediately free to enter a -situation, for the whole of his time was occupied in settling his -affairs. He had left his home in Prince's Gate, and was living in -lodgings in Brixton. Everything he had in the world was given up to -the creditors of the bank, and when he quitted the house, neither he -nor Rachel had taken from it a single article of the slightest value. -Small personal gifts which had been given by one to the other, -articles of dress which they might legitimately have retained, -mementos of little value, endeared to them by some affectionate -association, even the old silver-mounted pipe in its jeweled -case--all were left behind. Simply dressed, without a piece of -jewellery about them, they turned their faces towards the new home and -the new life without a murmur, and, hand in hand, walked to their -humble rooms with contented hearts. - -Prissy, who had gone before to get the place ready, received them with -a smiling face. Grandeur was nothing to Prissy, so long as she could -be with those whom she loved to serve. As happy in a cottage as in a -palace, she proved herself to be a true philosopher, accepting -fortune's rubs with equanimity, and making the best of them with a -cheerful willingness it were well for loftier folk to emulate. Bird -never trilled more happily than Prissy as she moved hither and -thither, upstairs and down, setting things to rights, shifting the -furniture and studying each new arrangement with a critical eye, -interrupting herself every minute by running to the window to see -if her master and mistress were coming. The rooms were sweet and -clean, there were flowers about, and blooming flowers in pots on the -window-sill. The fragrance of the flowers greeted Rachel as she -entered, and her bright face was Prissy's reward. - -"Where did the flowers come from, Prissy?" asked Aaron, when Rachel -was out of hearing. - -"From the flower-man, sir," she answered. - -"Surely not a gift?" - -"Yes, sir," said the unblushing Prissy; "wasn't it good of him?" - -"Prissy!" said Aaron, with warning finger uplifted. - -"Well, sir, they cost next to nothing, and they're paid for." - -"But, Prissy----" - -"Please don't, sir," she interrupted, and there were tears in her eyes -and a pleading rebellion in her voice. "I know what you're going to -say, Mr. Cohen, but please don't. You'd like me to keep good, wouldn't -you, sir?" - -"Why, of course, Prissy," said Aaron, astonished at the question. - -"Well, sir, I can't, if you blow me up now you're in misfortune; I -can't keep good if you don't let me have my way in little things. I'll -be very careful, I will, indeed, Mr. Cohen. It's almost the first time -in my life I've bought any flowers at all for any one else, and it -ain't in you, sir, to take away pleasure from anybody--and did you -see, sir, how happy missis looked when she came in?" - -Thus inconsequentially Prissy, mixing her arguments in the strangest -manner. - -"But, my good girl," said Aaron, kindly, "you have no business to -waste your money; you must think of your future." - -"It's what I am thinking of, sir; I don't want to grow wicked, and -flowers are the only things that will prevent me. It's the honest -truth, sir; they make me feel good. Mr. Cohen, if it hadn't been for -you, where should I have been? In the gutter, I daresay. You took me -out of it, sir. I don't forget the first night I come to you with -Victoria Regina in Gosport; if I lived to be as old as Methusalem I -couldn't never forget it. And then when missis got me the gillard -water to bathe my eyes--I should be the ungratefullest woman that ever -drew breath if I could forget those things. Do, please, sir, let me -have my way. You've paid me a lot more wages than I was worth, and all -my money is in the post office savings bank, and it ain't mine at all, -it's yours----" - -"My good Prissy," said Aaron, much affected, for Prissy could not -continue, her voice was so full of tears, "do as you wish, but be very -careful, as you have promised. Perhaps fortune will turn again, and -then----" - -"And then, sir," said Prissy, taking up his words, "you shall give it -all back to me--and I'll take it then, sir, you see if I don't. It -will turn, if there's any fairness anywhere. And now, if you'll -forgive me, sir, I must go and look after the dinner." - -Aaron was very busy for several days after this making a careful -inventory of his possessions in the house in Prince's Gate, which he -sent to the appointed liquidators of the bankrupt bank. Of all the -debtors he was the only one who did not wait for the law's decree to -give up his fortune to the last farthing, and perhaps he was the only -one whose conscience was free of the intention of wrong. - -He had his gleams of sunshine. First, the sweet contentment and -happiness of his beloved wife. The affection she lavished upon him was -of so tender and exalted a nature that it made their humble home a -paradise. She listened for his footstep, she stood at the door to meet -him, she drew him to her side, as a young maiden in the springtime of -life might have done to the lover she adored. Spiritual flowers grew -about her feet, and everything and every one was made purer and better -by contact with her. Then, as ill news travels fast, his son Joseph, -when his ship stopped at a not-distant port to take in cargo, was made -acquainted through the public journals with the condition of affairs; -and, divining that his father was in need of money, he cabled home -advices which assisted Aaron in his extreme need. The young man had -saved some money, and he placed it all at the disposal of his parents, -who derived an exquisite pleasure from this proof of affection. As in -Gosport twenty years before, Rachel did not know the stress to which -her husband was put; he kept from her knowledge everything of a -distressing nature, and in this loving task he was silently assisted -by Prissy, whose thoughtfulness and devotion were not to be excelled. -She watched her mistress's every movement, and anticipated her -lightest wish. The dishes she liked best were always on the table, and -everything she wanted was ready to her hand. Prissy was no less -attentive to her master, brushing his clothes, and polishing his boots -till she could see her face in them. - -"What should we do without you, Prissy?" said Rachel. - -"I hope you'll never want to do without me, ma'am," answered Prissy. - -Another gleam of sunshine came to him in the offer of a situation from -a merchant who had known him in his days of prosperity. He was not -asked to occupy a position of responsibility, and the offer was -conveyed to him in apologetic terms. - -"I cannot displace men who have been long in my employ," the merchant -said, "but a desk is vacant which you can have if you think it worthy -of you." - -Aaron accepted it gladly, and expressed his thanks. - -"Fortune has not deserted us," he said to his wife. "I shall not only -be able to pay our expenses, but I shall even be able to save a -little. The hours are short, the labour is light; and in time I may -rise to something better." - -So, like a young man commencing life, he went every morning to his new -duties, and returned in the evening to a peaceful and happy home. - -During all this time he had heard no word of Ruth or Mrs. Gordon, and -the sin of which he had been guilty had not reached the public ear. -His house and furniture still remained unsold, law's process being -proverbially slow and tedious. At length, passing his house one -evening, he saw bills up, announcing that the mansion and its contents -were to be sold by auction in the course of the following week. He was -not a stoic, and it gave him a pang, but the pain soon passed away. -"What have I to repine at," he thought, "with heavenly love awaiting -me at home?" It was his intention to attend the auction for the -purpose of purchasing two or three small mementos, towards which he -had saved a few pounds. The sale was to take place on Thursday, and on -Wednesday night he was looking through the catalogue, and talking with -Rachel about his intended purchases. - -"There are dumb memorials," he said, "which from long association -become like living friends. Something of our spirit seems to pass into -them, imbuing them with life. I shall not be quite happy till I get -back my silver-mounted pipe; of all my possessions it was my dearest. -Tobacco has lost its flavour since I left it behind me; but I had no -right to bring away anything of value, and I have always looked -forward to possessing it again. Great misfortunes are really easy to -bear in comparison with such-like trifles." - -Aaron seldom indulged now in those touches of humour to which Rachel -in the old days loved to listen. The Aaron of to-day and the Aaron of -yesterday were the same in everything but that; the tender gaiety was -replaced by a tender sadness, and Rachel often thought with regret of -the play of fancy which used to stir her to mirth. - -On this night they expected a visit from Mr. Moss, who was coming to -London on business; and at about nine o'clock he made his appearance. -An hour afterwards Rachel retired to bed, and left the friends -together. Aaron had observed that Mr. Moss looked anxious and uneasy, -but he was careful not to refer to it in the presence of his wife. - -"You have something on your mind," he now said. "No new misfortune, I -hope?" - -"Not to me personally," replied Mr. Moss, with a reluctant air. - -"To none of your family, I trust." - -"No; they are all quite well. My dentist son is getting along -famously; I saw him before I came here, and he told me that he had -pulled out three Christian teeth to-day. Isaac of York is avenged!" - -Dolefully as he spoke, Aaron could not help smiling. "But what is it?" -he asked. - -"I am the harbinger of trouble, it seems," groaned Mr. Moss, "and to -my best friend. I was the first to bring you the news of the panic, -and now----" - -"Yes," said Aaron, gently, "and now? Speak low, or Rachel may overhear -us." - -"You do not see many papers, Cohen?" - -"Not many." - -"I hardly like to tell you," said Mr. Moss, "but you will be sure to -hear of it to-morrow. They never spare a man who is down, For God's -sake, Cohen, don't blame me! I've never opened my lips--I'd have cut -my tongue out first." - -"Let me know the worst," said Aaron. "It relates to me, I see. As for -blaming you, set your mind at ease. You have been too good a friend to -me to do anything to distress me. Come, shake hands. Whatever it is, I -can bear it like a man, I hope. I have passed through the fire, and it -has left me humble and patient." - -In silence Mr. Moss took a newspaper from his pocket, and handed it to -Aaron. It was folded in a particular place, and there Aaron read an -article headed "A Strange Revelation," in which the whole story of his -sin was circumstantially detailed. He was not referred to by name, nor -was Ruth's name or Mrs. Gordon's mentioned; but the name of the place -in which the incident occurred and the year of the occurrence were -accurately set down, and certain allusions to himself could not be -mistaken. He was spoken of as a Jew who, until lately, had occupied an -eminent position in society, who had posed as a friend of the working -man, and had been instrumental in putting an end to the late great -strike in the building trade. - -"Ostensibly this may be said to have been of service to society, but -in our judgment of a man's character the public issue must be set -aside. The question of private motive has to be considered: if it be -worthy it reflects credit upon him; if unworthy, it passes to his -dishonour." - -From this argument was drawn the conclusion that there was not a -public act performed by "the eminent Jew" that was not undertaken -with a view to self-interest and self-aggrandisement. He was a dealer -in fine phrases, which, with a stock of empty professions and mock -moralities which he kept always on hand, had helped to set him on the -pedestal from which he had toppled down. For years he had been -successful in throwing dust into the eyes of the multitude whom he had -cajoled into sounding his praises; but at length the sword had fallen, -and the life of duplicity he had led both publicly and privately was -laid bare to view. His charities were so many advertisements, and were -undoubtedly turned to profit; his religious professions, unceasingly -paraded, served as a cloak for his greed and self-seeking. - -"This man's life of hypocrisy points a moral. He was in affluence, he -is in want; he was a leader, he has become a drudge. He has been -justly served, and we hold him up as a warning and an example to all -pretenders of his class and creed." - -Then followed a promise of further revelations to be furnished by a -competent authority, and probably by the publication of the -delinquent's name, for the benefit of society at large. - -As Aaron read this scandalous article the colour deserted his cheeks, -his hands and mouth trembled, his heart sank within him. What could he -say in his defence? Nothing. The deductions and conclusions were -false, but the story was true. There was but one answer to the -question whether he had perpetrated a domestic fraud, and had brought -up as a Jewess a child whom he had allowed to grow to womanhood in -ignorance of her parentage and rightful faith. This answer would be -fatal, and would give the impress of truth to the entire article. How -could he show himself in public after such an exposure? His intended -appearance at the sale to-morrow must be relinquished: he would be -pointed at with scorn and contempt. Not for him the open paths where -he would meet his fellowman face to face; he must creep through the -byways, close to the wall. It seemed to him as if his life were over. -His head drooped, his arms sank listlessly down, his whole appearance -was that of a man who had received a mortal stroke. - -"It is abominable, abominable!" cried Mr. Moss. "Is there no law to -punish such a slander? Is there no protection for such a man as you?" - -"For such a man as I?" echoed Aaron, sadly. "Ah, my friend, you -forget. There is no grave deep enough for sin and wrong-doing; you may -bury it fathoms deep, but the hour will arrive when the ghost rises -and points at you with accusing hand. The punishment meted out to me -is just." - -"It is not--it is not!" - -"Hush! You will disturb Rachel." - -He stepped softly into the bedroom; Rachel was slumbering, with a -smile on her lips. As he stood by her side, contemplating her sweet -and beautiful face, she awoke. - -"Aaron!" - -"Yes, my life!" - -"Is it late? Has Mr. Moss gone?" - -"He is still here, Rachel. It is quite early." - -She encircled his neck with her arms, and drew him to her. "I have had -such happy dreams, dear love! Some good fortune is going to happen to -us." - -"What would life be without its delusions?" he said, in a sad tone. - -"Do not speak sadly, dear. You have borne up so bravely; you must not -break down now. Come, come--for my sake, love!" - -"For your sake, beloved," he said; and as he spoke the tormenting -demon which had been torturing him lost its power. - -"What made you sad, love?" said Rachel. "Surely not because we are -poor?" - -"No, love; it was not that. But if your dreams should not come true" - -"Why, then," she answered, and her voice was like music in his ears, -"we have faced trouble before, and can face it again. It will make no -difference so long as we are together. Aaron, with you by my side I -would walk barefoot through the world, and bless the gracious Lord -that made me. He is all-merciful and all-powerful, and in Him I put my -trust. To the last, to the last, dear and honoured husband, we will -not lose our trust in Him! Do not be sad again. All will come right--I -feel it will. It is as if a Divine voice is whispering to me." - -When Aaron rejoined his friend the colour had returned to his face, -his step was firmer, his eye brighter. - -"There is an angel in my home," he said. "Let my enemies do their -worst. I am armed against them. Does this article make any change in -our friendship?" - -"It binds me closer to you, Cohen." - -Aaron pressed Mr. Moss's hand. - -"Love and friendship are mine," he said simply. "What more can I -desire?" - - - - - CHAPTER XLVI. - - RETRIBUTION. - - -The following morning Aaron went to the office as usual, and quickly -discovered that the poisoned arrow had found its mark. He was received -with coldness, and the principals of the firm passed his desk without -speaking to him. He observed the older employes whispering together, -and looking at him furtively, avoiding his eye when he returned their -gaze. His mind was soon made up; sending in his name to his employers -he requested an interview with them. Upon entering the private room he -saw upon the table a copy of the paper containing the scandalous -attack; he did not change colour, he thought of Rachel's love, and his -voice was firm and resigned. - -"You have read this article, Mr. Cohen?" said the principal member of -the firm. - -"Yes, sir; I read it last night." - -"And you have come to explain----" - -He interrupted his employer mildly. - -"No, sir; I have not come to explain anything. I am here to tender my -resignation." - -"You save us from a difficulty, Mr. Cohen. It was our intention to -speak to you before the day was over. But still, if the story we have -seen in the paper is not true--if it does not, after all, refer to -you----" - -"The story is true," he said, "and it refers to me." - -"In that case," was the reply, "there is nothing more to be said. We -regret the necessity, but it appears unavoidable. The cashier will pay -you a month's salary in lieu of notice." - -"I can accept only what is due to me," said Aaron; and shortly -afterwards he left the office. - -Not one of his fellow-clerks offered to shake hands with him as he -went away; but the pang he felt was momentary. - -"Patience, patience," he murmured, raising his eyes to heaven. "To Thy -decree, O God, I humbly submit. My punishment is just." - -He did not return home until evening, and then he said nothing to -Rachel of his dismissal. The next day he went out and wandered -aimlessly about the streets, choosing the thoroughfares where he would -be least likely to be recognised. So the days passed, and still he had -not the courage to speak to Rachel. - -"Perhaps in another country," he thought, "I may find rest, and Rachel -and I will be allowed to pass the remainder of our life in peace." - -On Tuesday, in the ensuing week, he went forth, and with bowed head -was walking sadly on, when, with a sudden impulse, he wheeled round in -the direction of his home. The feeling that impelled him to do this -was, that he was behaving treacherously to Rachel in keeping the -secret from her. He would make her acquainted with his disgrace and -dismissal, and never again in his life would he conceal anything from -her knowledge. This resolution gave him the courage he had lacked. - -"It is as if I were losing faith in her," he murmured. "Love has made -me weak where it should have made me strong." - -He hastened his steps, and soon reached his home. As he stood for a -moment at the door of the sitting-room he heard a voice within which -he recognised as that of his old rival, Mr. Poynter, and upon his -entrance he found that gentleman and his wife together. - -Rachel was standing in a dignified attitude, as though in the presence -of an enemy; her face was pale and scornful, and Mr. Poynter was -manifestly ill at ease. Hearing her husband's footsteps she extended -her hand, and taking his, pressed it to her lips. In this position -they must be left for a brief space while an explanation is given of -another incident which was to bear directly upon the scene, and to -bring into it a startling colour. - -Prissy had conducted Mr. Poynter into the presence of her mistress, -and had scarcely done so when she was called down to a lady, who had -inquired for Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. - -"Mr. Cohen is out," said Prissy, "and Mrs. Cohen is engaged." - -"I wish to see them particularly," said the lady, giving Prissy a -card, upon which the name of Mrs. Gordon was engraved. "Are you -Prissy?" - -"Yes, ma'am," Prissy answered in wonder; "but I don't remember ever -having seen you." - -"You have never seen me before," said Mrs. Gordon with a smile, "but I -have heard of you. Can I wait until your mistress's visitor is gone? I -bring good news." - -"You can sit in my room, if you don't mind, ma'am," said Prissy, who -was greatly excited at the promise of good news. - -"Thank you," said Mrs. Gordon; and she followed the servant upstairs -to a room next to that in which Mr. Poynter and Rachel were -conversing, and where, the wall being thin, she could hear every word -that was being spoken in the adjoining apartment. - -"This gentleman," said Rachel to her husband, pointing in the -direction of Mr. Poynter, "has called to see you on business, and has -taken advantage of your absence to offer me a bribe." - -"One moment, Rachel," said Aaron; "let me first hear the nature of Mr. -Poynter's business." - -"I will explain it," said Mr. Poynter. "I have not been fortunate -enough to win Mrs. Cohen's favour, but ladies are not accustomed to -discuss business matters." - -"Did you come here to discuss a business matter with my wife?" -inquired Aaron, calmly. - -"Well, hardly; but as you were absent I thought I might mention the -matter to her." - -"What matter?" - -"The business I came upon," said Mr. Poynter, irritated by Aaron's -composure. "I am ready to hear it, sir." - -"Very well. We will not beat about the bush, but will come straight to -the point. You are down in the world, Mr. Cohen?" - -"Yes, sir; I am, as you say, down in the world." - -"The newspapers," continued Mr. Poynter, "have been saying -uncomplimentary things of you, and I have heard a threat of further -revelations. I considered it my duty--in the interests of truth, Mr. -Cohen--to make your wife acquainted with these public disclosures." - -Rachel pressed her lips again upon Aaron's hand, which she held in a -firm and loving grasp. His face brightened. - -"You have rendered me a service," he said. "Possibly I have you to -thank, also, for the statements which have been made in the papers -concerning me." - -"Possibly," said Mr. Poynter. - -"Nay," said Aaron, "you suggested just now the advisability of not -beating about the bush, and you proclaim that you are here in the -interests of truth. Have I, or have I not, to thank you for this -unfavourable publicity?" - -"I have never shrunk from the truth," replied Mr. Poynter, with a -lofty air, "nor from a duty, however distressing the truth or the duty -might be. Society has to be considered, and we must ignore the feeling -of the individual. I became possessed of certain information, and I -considered it my imperative duty not to withhold it from the public -ear." - -"I thank you. Without further circumlocution I must ask you to come -straight to the business which brings you here." - -"It is very simple, and will put money in your pocket, of which, it -seems to me, you stand in need." - -"I do stand in need of money." - -"Then the matter can be arranged. Some little while since we had a -conversation concerning certain contracts which you were not in a -position to complete." - -"You solicited a transference of those contracts to your firm," said -Aaron, "and I declined to grant your request." - -"You use high-sounding words for one in your position," said Mr. -Poynter, with a frown, "but I will not quarrel with you. You gave the -worst of all bad reasons for your refusal." - -"Whether my reasons were good or bad, you have taken your revenge." - -"God-fearing men do not seek revenge, but justice. To continue. The -firm to which you transferred the most important of these contracts -happens at the present time to need some assistance, and hearing of -it, I offer what it needs. But it appears that you have hampered them, -and that in the deed of transference you expressly stipulate that no -part of the contracts shall be executed by me unless I bind myself to -a scale of wages and hours which you have tabulated." - -"I considered it fair to the men," said Aaron, "and it is as you have -stated." - -"It is my belief," pursued Mr. Poynter, "that the firm will accept my -aid if I adhere to the scale, which I decline to do. I know what is -right, and I will not be dictated to. My business here is to make you -the offer of a sum of money--I will go as far as a hundred pounds--if -you will cancel this stipulation by which my friends are bound. A -hundred pounds is a large sum, Mr. Cohen; it would come in useful to -you just now." - -"It would. It is likely you would increase the sum." - -"Oh, you Jews, you Jews!" exclaimed Mr. Poynter, jocosely, thinking -he had gained his point. "Always on the look-out for the main -chance--always screwing out the last penny. Well, I am not a mean man, -Mr. Cohen. We will say a hundred and twenty." - -Aaron turned to Rachel, and asked, "Is this the bribe you spoke of?" - -"It is not," she replied. "Mr. Poynter will explain it to you in his -own words." - -"I haven't the smallest objection," said Mr. Poynter. "You see, Mr. -Cohen, it is sometimes necessary to put the screw on. Who knows that -better than you? There is a material screw, and a moral screw, in this -particular case. The material screw is money; the moral screw is an -iron safe, of which, as yet, no mention has been made in the -newspapers." - -"Ah!" said Aaron. - -"It is almost a waste of words to speak of it to you, who are so -familiar with the circumstances. This iron safe, it appears, was given -into your charge when you received the infant into your house in -Gosport. You were a pauper at the time, and from that day you -prospered. In a manner of speaking you became suddenly rich. Well, -well, the temptation was too strong for you. You could not resist -opening the safe, and appropriating what it contained--undoubtedly -treasure of some sort in money or jewels. But, Mr. Cohen, there is an -all-seeing Eye." - -"I acknowledge it In the event of my refusing your money, you threaten -to accuse me through the columns of the press of breaking open the -safe and stealing the contents." - -"You have expressed it clearly, Mr. Cohen. The moral screw, you know." - -"And of further blackening my character." - -"It can scarcely be made worse than it is. In the event of your -refusal I shall certainly do my duty." - -"Mr. Poynter," said Aaron, with dignity, "I refuse your offer." - -"It is not enough?" - -"Were you to multiply it a hundred times, it would not be enough." - -Through Aaron's veins ran the sweet approval conveyed in Rachel's -close clasp upon his hand. "You beggar!" exclaimed Mr. Poynter. "You -hypocrite! You defy me?" - -"I do not defy you; I simply tell you to do your worst." - -"It shall be done!" cried Mr. Poynter, furiously. "You are ruined; I -will ruin you still more; I will bring you to your knees; you shall -lie in the gutter and beg for mercy! You paragon of sanctity, all the -world shall know you for what you are!" - -"You can use no harsher words," said Aaron. "Relieve me now of your -presence." - -As he said this the communicating door between the rooms opened, and -Mrs. Gordon appeared on the threshold. - -"Yes, I will go," said Mr. Poynter, but fell back when Mrs. Gordon -advanced. - -"Not yet," she said, and turned to Aaron. "I have a word to say to -this gentleman. Your servant admitted me, and allowed me to wait in -the adjoining apartment till you were disengaged. I have heard all -that has passed between you, and I am thankful for the chance that -enabled me to do so. Mr. Cohen, look upon that man, and mark how -changed he is from braggart to coward. It is not the infamous -falsehoods he has spoken, it is not the cowardly threats to which he -has dared to give utterance in the presence of a lady, that cause him -to shrink, that blanch his face, and bring terror into his eyes. It is -because he sees me stand before him, the woman he betrayed and -deserted long years ago. He believed me dead, driven to death by his -treachery and baseness; he beholds me living, to cover him, if I wish, -with shame and ignominy. Heaven knows I had no desire to seek him, but -Heaven directed me here in a just moment to expose and baffle him. It -is my turn now to threaten, it is my turn to dictate. You unutterable -villain, you shall make some sort of retribution for the infamy of the -past!" - -"Psha!" said Mr. Poynter, with white lips. "Who will believe you? You -have no proofs." - -"I have. God's justice has turned your weapon against yourself. The -safe entrusted to this noble gentleman, and which he delivered to me -intact, untampered with, when I came to claim it, contained no -treasure in money or jewels. When I parted with my child--and yours--I -was too poor to deposit even one silver coin in it, but in its stead I -placed there the letters you wrote to me, in your own hand, signed in -your own name, the name by which you are known. These letters are now -in my possession. How would you stand in the eyes of the world if I -published them, you God-fearing man, with the story attaching to them? -I will do it, as Heaven is my judge, if you do not repair the injury -you have done this gentleman, whom, with all my heart and soul, I -honour and revere. It is him you have to thank that your child has -been reared in honour and virtue. Go! I never wish to look upon your -face again; but as you are a living man I will bring the good name you -falsely bear to the dust if you do not make reparation!" - -As he slunk past her, uttering no word, she held her dress so that it -should not come in contact with him. His power for evil was at an end, -and Aaron had nothing more to fear from his malice. - -Then, after Aaron had introduced her to Rachel, she poured glad -tidings into their ears. She had not sought them earlier, she said, -because she wished first to execute a plan which was in her head -respecting them, and she had also to reconcile Lord Storndale to his -son's marriage with Ruth. Her great wealth had enabled her, after much -labour, to succeed in this endeavour, and Ruth was recognised by her -husband's family. The fortune which Aaron had settled upon Ruth had -not been used in the carrying out of her desire; it was deposited in -the bank, where only Aaron's signature was needed to prove his right -to it. And now she begged them to accompany her; she wished to show -them something, and her carriage was at the door. It conveyed them to -a handsome house in a good neighbourhood, which they supposed to be -Mrs. Gordon's residence. A neatly dressed maid answered the bell, and -to their surprise Mrs. Gordon immediately left them, and saying she -would call on the morrow, drove away before they could reply. The -maid, holding the door open to allow them to enter, handed Aaron a -letter and a packet, both addressed to him. The letter was from Mrs. -Gordon, and upon reading it the mystery was explained. The house had -been purchased by her in the name of Aaron Cohen, and the packet -contained the deeds. "In furnishing the house," Mrs. Gordon wrote, -"Ruth has been the guiding spirit; she knew what was most precious to -you and your dear wife." Aaron's heart throbbed with gratitude as he -and Rachel walked through the rooms, and he saw all the memorials of -their old home which they held most dear. On the walls were the -portrait of himself and the picture of Rachel in the garden in France, -which had been presented to him on the day when all his friends had -assembled to do him honour. Joyful tears ran down Rachel's face as he -described these treasures to her; the love she had lavished on Ruth -met now with its return. In the study Aaron paused, and lifting -something from the table, placed it in Rachel's hands. - -"Your silver-mounted pipe!" she exclaimed. - -"My silver-mounted pipe," he answered. "My life, with this pipe, and -the dear picture of you sitting under the cherry tree, and holding -your dear hand, I can pass my days in perfect happiness and content." - -"O Lord of the Universe," said Rachel, clasping her hands, and raising -her lovely face, "I thank Thee humbly for all Thy goodness to me and -mine!" - - - - - THE END - - - - - * * * * * * -Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury. - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Aaron the Jew, by B. L. 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