Aaron the Jew: A Novel

"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?"