The fire was burning brightly, and the old cat which they had brought with them to Gosport was stretched at full length upon the hearth rug. 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 upon 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 toward thee, and grant thee peace!"
It was something more than a blessing; it was 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' 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 humor, which exhibited itself in a quiet laugh, which presently deepened in volume.
"I am thinking of the little girl," he explained to Rachel. "Itwas amazing the way she puffed out the candles and poked out thefire--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 the nose of a man is 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 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 humor, 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 coreligionist, 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 Jacob and Aaron and Moses, 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. A big nose is a grand decoration, and I would sooner possess it than a bit of red ribbon in my buttonhole, 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 humor 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 sympathize with Judy when she is slain? Not at all; every whack Punch gives her is greeted with shrieks oflaughter--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 reasons 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 dearchild"--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 neighborhood in which we were married. A thousand pounds did my dear father--God rest hissoul--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 neighborhood 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, to grow rich, 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 abed," 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, enj'ying 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 begins to kick up about it. 'Where's my 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 wos about. Aunty didn't know 'ow it come on 'er--she's ready to take 'er oath on that. Aint 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 discolored, and that she was in pain.
"O 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 borderland 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.
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 different things in 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 unfavorable opinion of him (influenced by certain rumors 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."
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 parlor,with the intermediate door open. Aaron was smoking a handsomesilver-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 the holidays, 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. At peace with the world and with themselves, they 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 himself. With fond endearments he endeavored 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 honored husband that this wicked demonstration was made, and she dreaded that he would be subjected to violence. To her perturbed mind 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. 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 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 humor.
"Have no fear, my heart," he said, "have not the slightest fear. I am going to meet them--not with javelin and spear; 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, 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 light it, and then, with tender 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.
"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.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
"Good little boys and girls," said Aaron. "Bravo! bravo! You deserve a reward. Every laborer 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 ardor increased. They scratched, they kicked, they tumbled over each other, blows were exchanged. Those who had secured pennies scampered away with them, and with loud and vengeful cries the penniless scampered after them. The next moment they had all disappeared.
Shaking with internal laughter, Aaron remained on his steps a while, purring at his pipe; then he put up the shutters, locked the street door, 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."
"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." 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 labors of the young rascals who would make our lives a torment to us."
"You gave them money!" exclaimed Rachel in amazement.
"I threw among them seven penny pieces. 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 instinctively profited by it. 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 leftempty-handed labored 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 are injured and eyes discolored. 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, root of much evil and of much good, what have you not to answer for? Rachel, my love, take heart of courage, and when you hear those boys shouting outside to-morrow 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, eyes were discolored, words of injurious import exchanged, and bad blood engendered. The sevenpence for which they fought would not have paid 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 organize 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, nodding benignantly in approval, and continuing to smoke his silver-mounted pipe. "Very well done, very well done indeed!"
"Aint he going to throw us anything?" 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. 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 hungry 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 sweet stuff.
"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; and 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 quarreled 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, you coward!" cried the rank and file to their captain. "What are you frightened at? What did we make you 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 favor."
Ted, with a sidelong look over his shoulder 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."
"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? It is as good as a play. I think it is very nice of you--very nice, very nice indeed!"
"Oh," said Ted in a crestfallen 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. "He says it's as good as a play."
"How much did he give you?" they inquired, feeling as he did in respect of the fun of their proceedings.
"He didn't give me nothing."
"We saw him hold out his hand to you," they protested.
"You saw us shake hands, that's what you 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 money 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 again 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 money. 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 each other as they strolled off moodily, "and he wants us to come here and scream our throats dry without being paid for it. Well, we aint going to do it. We won't call him Jew any more if he wants us ever so much. It aint likely, now, is it? What does he mean by treating us so shabby?" These young rapscallions thought the world was out of joint.
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 cozy little parlor when he related the whole affair to Rachel.
"One shilling and eightpence has it cost me, my love," he said, "and I do not begrudge 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 innuendos 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 thecorn-chandler bore toward 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 judgment will fall upon them. Spain, once the greatest of nations, fell into decay when the Jew 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 uneducated human beings, but a brand of fire shall fall upon the heads of those who are employed in work so vile."
Perhaps, however, to Rachel may chiefly be ascribed the general respect the Cohens earned among the townsfolk. Charitable, kind, and gentle by nature, she was instinctively drawn to those poor people who had fallen into misfortune. Upon her sympathetic ears no tale of distress could fall without bearing fruit. 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 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 as 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 seemed to live 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, rearranged 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 smallvalue which he kept in the safe, there was little now to temptthieves to repeat their knavish doings. So with fond kisses he bade her good-night.
They stood facing each other, looking into each other's eyes. Rachel's eyes were of a tender gray, 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 goodhearted 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 I shall require a little stock to replace what I have lost; it would cramp me to do so now."
He mentioned the name 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. 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, 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----"
"Fourteen," 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 toward the successful accomplishment of just and worthy endeavor. That it was man's duty to do right, to work, to pray, to be considerate to his neighbors, to make his home cheerful, to be as charitable as his means willallow--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. Wrongdoing was not to be set aside and forgotten until a convenient hour for repentance arrived. Hourly, daily, 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. A distant glare in the sky, 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 spiritual, but presently he discovered that they did not spring from his imagination. The glare in the sky became plainly visible, the loud voices reached his ears. There was a fire in the town, and he was proceeding toward it. Instantly his thoughts, his fears, centered upon Rachel. He ran forward quickly, and found himself struggling through an excited crowd. Flames shot upward; 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 came the joyful news that she was saved.
"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 night dress; sympathizing 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, Mr. Cohen," said a voice; it was that of the 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 a while, 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 neighbors 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 the 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 honored 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!"