Читать книгу: «A Fair Jewess», страница 19

"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 Honorable 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. 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 in love 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, 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, then you know how I feel. I don't set myself up as a good man; I've done many 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 Honorable 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. 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 in 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 check and handed it to the young man, who shook hands with him gratefully, and with a light heart went to gladden his young wife with the good news.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
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 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 was growing 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 recognized 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 a fool's paradise, 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, he knew, before many weeks were past-he could still retain the love of his wife, if she would forgive him for the deception he had practiced, he would be content; he might even be happy again, fallen as he would be from his high estate.

The first duty he had to perform was to lift Ruth and her husband from poverty, to place them in an honorable 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. The young man is in difficulties, and I have resolved to clear him from them and to provide for their 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; 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, Cohen."

"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' hand, and 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 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 honorable 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 unraveled. 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 completed. 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?"

"It will be placed in your hands to-morrow. Do not return here to-night. 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 everything in the shape of 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 trust 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 realize a sum of about ninety thousand pounds, in addition to which there were his house and furniture, which would realize another ten thousand.

One-third of this should be given to his son Joseph and Rose, one-third should be divided among the Jewish charities, and one-third should be invested for himself and Rachel. This would produce an income 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 honor in the synagogue, which he would immediately resign. There and then he wrote his letters of resignation. He drew forth the address upon modern Judaism he had undertaken to deliver, hoping thereby to counteract the loose views of religious obligation 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 labors. 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 Rose." 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 Rose do not hint of 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 dare say my friends will be surprised, but I am fixed; nothing can make me 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. You deliver your address on Sunday, do you not?"

"No."

"But, Cohen, 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 the 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. Have you seen the papers this morning?"

"I have not opened them."

"They are full of your praises for putting an end to the strike; they say it is due alone to your character and powerful influence."

"I take no credit to myself. What I did was done with a conscientious motive."

"Good," said Mr. Moss with hearty emphasis. "That is the keynote of your life. Then what have you 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 check 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 to-morrow 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."

"She has all the more reason for contentment. I wish her to be happy."

They had a busy time with lawyers, bank managers, and creditors, and Aaron just managed to catch the two-twenty train for Bournemouth. He passed a quiet evening with Rachel and Rose, and answered the questions put by his wife concerning Ruth in a manner to satisfy her. With Rose he had a private conversation upon the subject, and cautioned her to preserve silence as to the letter she had received. On the following morning he took an early 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 Honorable Percy Storndale to him, "and I am thinking of taking Ruth to the Continent to-morrow, but she will be unhappy if she does not see you before we go."

"I will come with you now," said Aaron.

They met and parted without any warm demonstration of affection. Such a demonstration from Ruth toward 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 lifelong kindness toward her and by her fear that he was quietly angry with her; while Aaron was held back by the consciousness of his wrongdoing. And so the young couple went forth to commence their new life, and the secret of Ruth's birth was still unrevealed. Aaron had not yet mustered courage to make confession, but he knew that the hour was fast approaching when he would stand in the full light of the sin he had committed through love.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE MOTHER'S APPEAL

Two weeks had passed away. Joseph had come and gone. In the company of Rose 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 not improved, the physician said, and those to whom she was so dear were continually warned that she was not to be agitated by news of a distressing nature. The shrewd doctor impressed this upon them the more strongly for the reason that he perceived that a cloud was hanging over their spirits which they were concealing from the sightless lady.

"You cannot be too careful," he said. "A sudden shock might produce serious effects."

They were, therefore, compelled to preserve secrecy, and to invent excuses for Ruth's absence from the family circle. Joseph and Rose had both been informed of Ruth's marriage, and were thus partners with Aaron in the affectionate conspiracy. Aaron had gone no farther with them than this. The vital secret was still in his sole possession.

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 many years, necessitated his being in London the greater part of these two weeks; he would have liked to keep his proceedings from public knowledge, but in this he was not successful. One cause of the publicity which was given to his actions lay in the disposal of a portion of his fortune in charity; his benefactions were heralded far and wide, and he was made the subject of numberless laudatory articles in the newspapers. Another cause was his transference of large contracts, and especially of the last one for which he had successfully competed, to other firms. In the transference of these contracts he had laid down stipulations with respect to wages and hours of labor which, while they did not meet with the full approval of employers, earned for him renewed commendation from the working classes. Mr. Poynter had tried to obtain some of these contracts, but Aaron found him so shifty in his methods that he declined to have anything to do with him. For which defeat Mr. Poynter vowed revenge, and looked about for the means of compassing it.

At the end of the fortnight Aaron was in London, his labors ended, and at this time his fortune amounted to something over thirty thousand pounds, a larger sum than he 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, 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.

At six o'clock on this evening he and Mr. Moss were together in Aaron's house, by appointment. Aaron had resolved to reveal his secret to his faithful friend, and he had set apart this evening as a fitting time for the disclosure. On the following day Rachel and Rose were to return to London, as Rachel did not wish to remain any longer in Bournemouth, and Mr. Moss was to return to Portsmouth.

Mr. Moss' face was flushed with excitement as he entered the room with an evening paper in his hand.

"Have you heard the rumor, Cohen?" he asked excitedly.

"What rumor?" inquired Aaron, rising to meet his friend.

"About your bank, the Equitable 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 know, but it cannot affect me. I have no investments now, with the solitary exception of my bank shares. All my affairs are settled, and the money in the bank until I decide how to invest it."

Mr. Moss groaned. "I wish you had it safely invested in consols. Is all your money there?"

"Every shilling. The only investments I have not realized are the shares I hold in the bank."

"That makes it all the worse. The shareholders are liable to the depositors."

"Yes."

The flush had died out of Mr. Moss' 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 everyone's lips. If the bank stops payment to-morrow 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," said Aaron, with a smile.

"And it was only yesterday that you were-"

He could not continue, and Aaron took up his words.

"It is only yesterday that I was on 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. We will wait till to-morrow."

"Will you not go into 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' despondent mood that it really seemed as if it were his friend's fortune that was imperiled instead of his own. He was standing by the door, and hearing a knock, he opened it.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said a 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!"

"Show him up," said Aaron to the servant.

"Had I not better see him alone?" asked Mr. Moss.

"If you have no objection," replied Aaron, "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 was here 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, but men sometimes receive an inspiration for which there is no visible warranty. 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 honorable 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' 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 unfortunate?"

"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 warmest terms. The commission intrusted 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 intrusted to him. He informed me that she died very shortly, as I understand, 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 briefly 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, intrusted to me a small iron box-it was one I gave her, and I can identify it-in which she deposited some article of the nature of which I am 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 through 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 assist her 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 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 intrusted. The box 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?"