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CHAPTER XLI.
A POISONED ARROW

Had it not been that public attention was mainly directed to events of greater importance, Aaron Cohen's affairs would have furnished a tempting theme for the busy hunters of sensational and personal journalism, but to a certain extent he was protected by the fever of the financial panic in which men of a higher station were brought down low, and the fortunes of famous historic houses imperiled. He would have been grateful to slip into obscurity entirely without notice, but this could scarcely be expected.

He had one bitter enemy-Mr. Poynter-who rejoiced in his downfall, and who neglected no opportunity to wing a poisoned arrow against his old rival. When the excitement of the panic was over these arrows became more numerous, and Aaron's name was frequently mentioned in a slighting manner in those second- and third-class journals whose columns are too freely open to personal spite and malice. He saw but few of the paragraphs in which he was attacked, and they did not wound him; some of his friends-for he was not deserted by all-urged him to reply to them, but he shook his head and said:

"I am content. Lives there a man without enemies?"

His chief concern was that the slanders should not reach Rachel's knowledge, and here her blindness aided him. Either he or the faithful Prissy was ever by her side, and if his traducers hoped to make him suffer through the being whose love was the most precious jewel in his life they were doomed to disappointment.

Perhaps Aaron had never been happier than he was during these dark days of adversity. The weight of a secret sin was lifted from his heart, and he had no fears of poverty.

He had full confidence in his being able to obtain some employment which would keep the wolf from the door; however lowly it might be, he was ready to accept it thankfully.

He was not immediately free to enter a situation, for much of his time was occupied in settling his affairs.

He had left his home in Prince's Gate, and was living in lodgings in Brixton. Everything he had in the world was given up to the creditors at the bank, and when he quitted the house neither he nor Rachel had taken from it anything of the slightest value. Small personal gifts which had been given by one to the other, articles of dress which they might legitimately have retained, mementoes of little value endeared to them by some affectionate association, even the old silver-mounted pipe-all were left behind. Simply dressed, without a piece of jewelry about them, they turned their faces toward the new home and the new life without a murmur, and walked to their humble rooms with contented hearts.

Prissy, who had gone before to get the place ready, received them with a smiling face. Grandeur was nothing to Prissy so long as she could be with those whom she loved to serve. As happy in a cottage as in a palace, she proved herself to be a true philosopher, accepting fortune's rubs with equanimity, and making the best of them with a cheerful willingness it were well for loftier folk to emulate. The rooms were sweet and clean, there were flowers about, and blooming flowers in pots on the window-sill. Rachel sighed with pleasure as she entered, and her bright face was Prissy's reward.

"Where did the flowers come from, Prissy?" asked Aaron when Rachel was out of hearing.

"From the flowerman, sir," she answered. "They cost next to nothing, and they're paid for."

"But, Prissy-"

"Please don't, sir," she interrupted, and there were tears in her eyes and a pleading rebellion in her voice. "I know what you're going to say, Mr. Cohen, but please don't. You'd like me to keep good, wouldn't you, sir?"

"Why, of course, Prissy," said Aaron, astonished at the question.

"I can't keep good, sir, if you blow me up now you're in misfortune; I can't keep good if you don't let me have my way in little things. I'll be very careful, I will, indeed, Mr. Cohen. It's the first time in my life I've bought any flowers at all-and did you see, sir, how happy missus looked when she came in?"

Thus inconsequentially Prissy, mixing her arguments in the strangest manner.

"But, my good girl," said Aaron kindly, "you have no business to waste your money; you must think of your future."

"It's what I am thinking of, sir; I don't want to grow wicked, and flowers are the only things that will prevent me. Mr. Cohen, if it hadn't been for you I shouldn't have been no good at all. I don't forget the first night I come to you with Victoria Regina in Gosport; if I lived to be as old as Methusalem I couldn't never forget it. And then when missus got me the gillard water to bathe my eyes-I should be the ungratefullest woman that ever drew breath if I could forget those things. Do, please, sir, let me have my way. You've paid me a lot more wages than I was worth, and all my money is in the

Post-office Savings Bank, and it aint mine at all, it's yours-"

"My good Prissy," said Aaron, much affected, for Prissy could not continue, her voice was so full of tears, "do as you wish, but be very careful, as you have promised. Perhaps fortune will turn again, and then-"

"And then, sir," said Prissy, taking up her words, "you shall give it all back to me. And it will turn, sir; you see if it won't!"

Aaron was very busy for several days after this, making a careful inventory of his possessions in the house in Prince's Gate, which he sent to the appointed liquidators of the bankrupt bank. Of all the debtors he was the only one who did not wait for the law's decree to give up his fortune, to the last farthing, and perhaps he was the only one whose conscience was free of the intention of wrong.

He had his gleams of sunshine. First, as ill news travel fast, his son, Joseph, upon his arrival in Australia, was made acquainted through the public journals of the condition of affairs, and divining that his father was in need of money he cabled home advices which assisted Aaron in his extreme need. The young man had saved some money, and he placed it all at the disposal of his parents, who derived an exquisite pleasure from this proof of affection.

As in Gosport twenty years before, Rachel did not know the stress to which her husband was put. He kept from her knowledge everything of a distressing nature, and in this loving task he was silently assisted by Prissy, whose thoughtfulness and devotion were not to be excelled. She watched her mistress' every movement and anticipated her slightest wish.

"What should I do without you, Prissy?" said Rachel.

"I hope you'll never want to do without me, ma'am," answered Prissy.

Another gleam of sunshine came to him in the offer of a situation from a merchant who had known him in his days of prosperity. He was not asked to occupy a position of responsibility, and the offer was conveyed to him in apologetic terms.

"I cannot displace men who have been long in my employ," the merchant said, "but a desk is vacant which you can have if you think it worthy of you."

Aaron accepted it gladly and expressed his thanks.

"Fortune has not deserted us," he said to his wife. "I shall not only be able to pay our expenses, but I shall even be able to save a little. The hours are short, the labor is light; and in time I may rise to something better."

So, like a young man commencing life, he went every morning to his new duties, and returned in the evening to a peaceful and happy home.

During all this time he had heard no word of Ruth or Mrs. Gordon, and the sin of which he had been guilty had not reached the public ear. His house and furniture still remained unsold, law's process being proverbially slow and tedious. At length, passing his house one evening he saw bills up announcing that the mansion and its contents were to be sold by auction in the course of a week. It was his intention to attend the auction for the purpose of purchasing a few small mementoes, toward which he had saved two or three pounds. The sale was to take place on Thursday, and on Wednesday night he was looking through the catalogue, and talking with Rachel about his intended purchases.

"There are dumb memorials, dear," he said, "which from long association become almost like living friends. I shall not be quite happy till I get back my silver-mounted pipe. Tobacco has lost its flavor since I left it behind me, but I had no right to bring away anything of value, and I have always looked forward to possessing it again. Great misfortunes are easy to bear in comparison with such-like trifles."

Aaron seldom indulged now in those touches of humor to which Rachel in the old days loved to listen. The Aaron of to-day and the Aaron of yesterday were the same in everything but that; the tender gayety was replaced by a tender sadness, and Rachel often thought with regret of the play of fancy which used to stir her to mirth.

On this night they expected a visit from Mr. Moss, who was coming to London on business, and at about nine o'clock he made his appearance. An hour afterward Rachel retired to bed, and left the friends together. Aaron had observed that Mr. Moss looked anxious and uneasy, and being now alone with him he inquired the reason.

"I expected you to tell me of it," said Mr. Moss.

"Of what?" asked Aaron. "I hope there is no fresh trouble."

"I am the harbinger of it, it seems," groaned Mr. Moss. "I was the first to bring you the news of the panic, and now-"

"Yes," said Aaron gently, "and now? Speak low, or Rachel may overhear us."

"You do not see many papers, Cohen?"

"Not many."

"I hardly like to tell you," said Mr. Moss, "but you will be sure to hear of it to-morrow. They never spare a man who is down. For God's sake, Cohen, don't blame me; I've never opened my lips-I'd have cut my tongue out first."

"Let me know the worst," said Aaron. "It relates to me, I see. As for blaming you, set your mind at ease. You have been too good a friend to me to do anything to distress me. Come, shake hands. Whatever it is I can bear it like a man, I hope. I have passed through the fire."

In silence Mr. Moss took a newspaper from his pocket, and handed it to Aaron. It was folded in a particular place, and there Aaron read an article, headed "A Strange Revelation," in which the whole story of his sin was circumstantially detailed. He was not referred to by name, nor was Ruth's name, or Mrs. Gordon's, mentioned, but the name of the place in which the incident occurred, and the year of the occurrence, were accurately set down, and certain allusions to himself could not be mistaken. He was spoken of as a Jew who until lately had occupied an eminent position in society, who had posed as a friend of the workingman, and had been instrumental in putting an end to the late great strike in the building trade.

"Ostensibly this may be said to have been of service to society, but in our judgment of the man's character such an issue must be set aside. The question of motive has to be considered; if it be worthy it reflects credit upon him, if unworthy it passes to his dishonor."

From this argument was drawn the conclusion that there was not a public act performed by "the eminent Jew" that was not undertaken with a view to self-interest. For years he had been successful in throwing dust into the eyes of the multitude whom he had cajoled into sounding his praises, but at length the sword had fallen, and the life of duplicity he had led both publicly and privately was laid bare to view. His charities were so many advertisements, and were undoubtedly turned to profit; his religious professions, unceasingly paraded, served as a cloak for his greed and self-seeking.

"This man's life of hypocrisy points a moral. He was in affluence, he is in want; he was a leader, he has become a drudge. We hold him up as a warning."

Then followed a promise of further revelations to be furnished by a competent authority, and probably by the publication of the delinquent's name for the benefit of society at large.

As Aaron read this scandalous article the color deserted his cheeks, his hands and mouth trembled, his heart sank within him. What could he say in his defense? Nothing! The deductions and conclusions were false, but the story was true. There was but one answer to the question whether he had perpetrated a domestic fraud, and had brought up as a Jewess a child whom he had allowed to grow up in ignorance of her parentage and rightful faith. This answer would be fatal and would give the impress of truth to the entire article. How could he show himself in public after such an exposure? His intended appearance at the sale to-morrow must be relinquished; he would be pointed at with scorn and contempt. Not for him the open paths where he would meet his fellow-man face to face; he must creep through the byways, close to the wall. It seemed to him as if his life were over. His head drooped, his arms sank listlessly down, his whole appearance was that of a man who had received a mortal stroke.

"It is abominable, abominable!" cried Mr. Moss. "Is there no law to punish such a slander? Is there no protection for such a man as you?"

"For such a man as I?" echoed Aaron sadly. "Ah, my friend, you forget. There is no grave deep enough for sin and wrongdoing; the punishment meted out to me is just."

"It is not-it is not!"

"Hush! You will disturb Rachel."

He stepped softly into the bedroom; Rachel was slumbering with a smile on her lips. As he stood by her side, contemplating her sweet and beautiful face, she awoke.

"Aaron?"

"Yes, my life."

"Is it late? Has Mr. Moss gone?"

"He is still here, Rachel. It is quite early."

She encircled his neck with her arms, and drew him to her. "I have had such happy dreams, dear love. Some good fortune is going to happen to us."

"What would life be without its delusions?" he said in a sad tone.

"Do not speak so sadly, dear. It is not because we are poor, is it?"

"No, love, it is not that. But if your dreams should not come true-"

"Why, then," she answered, and her voice was like music in his ears, "we have faced trouble before, and can face it again. It will make no difference so long as we are together. God is all-merciful and in him I put my trust. To the last-to the last-dear and honored husband, we will not lose our trust in him. Do not be sad. All will come right-I feel it will. It is as if a divine voice is whispering to me."

When Aaron rejoined his friend the color had returned to his face, his step was firmer, his eye brighter.

"There is an angel by my side," he said. "Let my enemies do their worst. I am armed against them. Does this article make any change in our friendship?"

"It binds me closer to you, Cohen."

Aaron pressed Mr. Moss' hand. "Love and friendship are mine," he said simply. "What more can I desire?"

CHAPTER XLII.
RETRIBUTION

The following morning Aaron went to the office as usual, and quickly discovered that the poisoned arrow had found its mark. He was received with coldness, and the principals of the firm passed his desk without speaking to him. He observed the older employees whispering together, and looking at him furtively, avoiding his eye when he returned their gaze. His mind was soon made up; he would not wait for the dismissal he saw impending, and in an interview with his employers he tendered his resignation.

"You have saved us from a difficulty, Mr. Cohen," they said. "We intended to speak to you before the day was over. But still, if the story we have seen in several papers is not true-if it does not, after all, refer to you-"

"The story is true," he said, "and it refers to me."

"We regret the necessity," was their reply; "the cashier will pay you a month's salary in lieu of notice."

"I can accept only what is due to me," said Aaron; and shortly afterward he left the office.

He did not return home until evening, and then he said nothing to Rachel of his dismissal. The next day he went out and wandered aimlessly about the streets, choosing the thoroughfares where he would be least likely to be recognized. So the days passed, and still he had not the courage to speak to Rachel.

"Perhaps in another country," he thought, "I may find rest, and Rachel and I will be allowed to pass the remainder of our life in peace."

On Tuesday in the ensuing week he went forth, and with bowed head was walking sadly on when, with a sudden impulse, he wheeled round in the direction of his home. The feeling that impelled him to do this was that he was behaving treacherously to Rachel in keeping the secret from her. He would make her acquainted with his disgrace and dismissal, and never again in his life would he conceal anything from her knowledge. This resolution gave him the courage he had lacked.

"It is as if I were losing faith in her," he murmured. "Love has made me weak where it should have made me strong."

He hastened his steps, and soon reached his home. As he stood for a moment at the door of the sitting room he heard a voice within which he recognized as that of his old rival, Mr. Poynter, and upon his entrance he found that gentleman and his wife together.

Rachel was standing in a dignified attitude, as though in the presence of an enemy; her face was pale and scornful, and Mr. Poynter was manifestly ill at ease. Hearing her husband's footsteps, she extended her hand, and taking his, pressed it to her lips. In this position they must be left for a brief space while an explanation is given of another incident which was to bear directly on the scene, and to bring into it a startling color.

Prissy had conducted Mr. Poynter into the presence of her mistress, and had scarcely done so when she was called down to a lady who had come to see Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. This lady was Mrs. Gordon.

"I bring good news to your master and mistress," she said to Prissy after she had heard that Mrs. Cohen was engaged. "Can I wait until the visitor is gone?"

"You can sit in my room if you don't mind, ma'am," said Prissy, who was greatly excited at the promise of good news.

"Thank you," said Mrs. Gordon, and she followed the servant upstairs to a room next to that in which Mr. Poynter and Rachel were conversing, and where, the wall being thin, she could hear every word that was being spoken in the adjoining apartment.

"This gentleman," said Rachel to her husband, pointing in the direction of Mr. Poynter, "has called to see you on business, and has taken advantage of your absence to offer me a bribe."

"One moment, Rachel," said Aaron; "let me first hear the nature of Mr. Poynter's business."

"I will explain it," said Mr. Poynter. "I have not been fortunate enough to win Mrs. Cohen's favor, but ladies are not accustomed to discuss business matters. You are down in the world, Mr. Cohen. It is best to speak quite plainly."

"It is. I am, as you say, down in the world."

"The newspapers," continued Mr. Poynter, "have been saying uncomplimentary things of you, and I have heard of a threat of further revelation. I considered it my duty to make your wife acquainted with these public disclosures."

Rachel pressed her lips again upon Aaron's hand which she held in a firm and loving grasp. His face brightened.

"You have rendered me a service," he said. "Possibly I have to thank you, also, for the statements which have been made in the papers concerning me?"

"Possibly," said Mr. Poynter.

"Nay," said Aaron, "you said just now that it is best to speak quite plainly, have I, or have I not, to thank you for the unfavorable publicity?"

"I have never shrunk from the truth," replied Mr. Poynter with a lofty air, "nor from a duty, however distressing the truth or the duty might be. I became possessed of certain information, and I considered it my duty, in the interests of truth, not to withhold it from the public ear."

"I thank you. Perhaps you will now come straight to the business which brings you here."

"It is very simple, and will put money into your pocket, of which, it seems to me, you stand in need."

"I do stand in need of money."

"Then the matter can be arranged. Some little while since you transferred your contracts to other firms, ignoring me entirely in the transaction."

"For which," said Aaron, "I had good reasons, and for which you have taken your revenge."

"God-fearing men," said Mr. Poynter, "do not seek revenge, but justice. To continue. The firm to which you transferred the most important of these contracts happen, at the present time, to need some assistance, and hearing of it I offer what they need. But it appears that you have hampered them, and that in the deed of transference you expressly stipulated that no part of the contracts shall be executed by me unless I bind myself to a scale of wages and hours which you have tabulated."

"I considered it fair to the men," said Aaron, "and it is as you have stated."

"It is my belief," pursued Mr. Poynter, "that the firm will accept my aid if I adhere to the scale, which I decline to do. I know what is right, and I will not be dictated to. My business here is to make you the offer of a sum of money-I will go as far as a hundred pounds-if you will cancel this stipulation by which my friends are bound. A hundred pounds would come in useful to you just now."

"It would. It is likely you would increase the sum."

"Oh, you Jews, you Jews?" exclaimed Mr. Poynter jocosely, thinking he had gained his point. "Always on the lookout for the main chance-always screwing out the last penny. I wouldn't mind, Mr. Cohen. We will say a hundred and twenty."

Aaron turned to Rachel and asked, "Is this the bribe you spoke of?"

"It is not," she replied. "Mr. Poynter will explain it to you in his own words."

"I haven't the smallest objection," said Mr. Poynter. "You see, Mr. Cohen, it is sometimes necessary to put the screw on. Who knows that better than you? There is a material screw, and a moral screw, in this particular case. The material screw is money; the moral screw is an iron safe, of which, as yet, no mention has been made in the newspapers."

"Ah," said Aaron.

"It is almost a waste of words to speak of it to you, who are so familiar with the circumstances. This iron safe, it appears, was given into your charge when you received the infant into your house in Gosport. You were poor at the time, and from that day you prospered. In a manner of speaking, you became suddenly rich. Well, well, the temptation was too strong for you. You could not resist opening the safe, and appropriating what it contained-undoubtedly treasure of some sort in money or jewels. But, Mr. Cohen, there is an All-seeing Eye."

"I acknowledge it. In the event of my refusing your money you threaten to accuse me through the columns of the press of breaking open the safe and stealing its contents."

"You have expressed it clearly, Mr. Cohen. The moral screw, you know."

"Mr. Poynter," said Aaron with dignity, "I refuse your offer."

"It is not enough?"

"Were you to multiply it a hundred times it would not be enough."

Through Aaron's veins ran the sweet approval conveyed in Rachel's cold clasp upon his hand.

"You beggar!" exclaimed Mr. Poynter. "You hypocrite! You defy me?"

"You rich man," said Aaron, "you God-fearing man, do your worst."

"It shall be done," cried Mr. Poynter furiously. "You are ruined: I will ruin you still more; I will bring you to your knees; you shall lie in the gutter, and beg for mercy! You paragon of sanctity, all the world shall know you for what you are!"

"You can use no harsher words," said Aaron. "Relieve me now of your presence."

As he said this the communicating door between the rooms opened and Mrs. Gordon appeared on the threshold.

"Yes, I will go," said Mr. Poynter; but fell back when Mrs. Gordon advanced.

"Not yet," she said; and turning to Aaron, "I have a word to say to this gentleman. Your servant admitted me and allowed me to wait in the adjoining apartment till you were disengaged. I have heard all that has passed between you, and I am thankful for the chance that enabled me to do so. Mr. Cohen, look upon that man and mark how changed he is, from braggart to coward. It is not the infamous falsehoods he has spoken, it is not the cowardly threats to which he has dared to give utterance in the presence of a lady that causes him to shrink, that blanches his face, and brings terror into his eyes. It is because he sees me stand before him, the woman he betrayed and deserted long years ago. He believed me dead, driven to death by his treachery and baseness; he beholds me living, to cover him, if I wish, with shame and ignominy. Heaven knows I had no desire to seek him, but Heaven directed me here in a just moment to expose and baffle him. It is my turn now to threaten, it is my turn to dictate. You unutterable villain, you shall make some sort of retribution for the infamy of the past!"

"Psha!" said Mr. Poynter with white lips. "Who will believe you? You have no proofs."

"I have; God's justice has turned your weapon against yourself. The safe intrusted to this noble gentleman, and which he delivered intact, untampered with, when I came to claim it, contained no treasure in money or jewels. When I parted with my child-and yours-I was too poor to deposit even one silver coin in it, but in its stead I placed there the torn half of one of your letters, retaining the other portion in proof of its genuineness. This letter is now in my possession. How would you stand in the eyes of the world if I published this, you God-fearing man, with the story attaching to it? I will do it, as Heaven is my judge, if you do not repair the injury you have done this gentleman, whom, with all my heart and soul, I honor and revere. It is him you have to thank that your child has been reared in honor and virtue. Go; I never wish to look upon your face again, but as you are a living man I will bring the good name you falsely bear to the dust if you do not make reparation!"

As he slunk past her, uttering no word, she held her dress so that it should not come in contact with him. His power for evil was at an end, and Aaron had nothing more to fear from his malice.

Then, after Aaron had introduced her to Rachel, she poured glad tidings into their ears. She had not sought them earlier, she said, because she wished first to execute a plan which was in her head respecting them, and she had also to reconcile Lord Storndale to his son's marriage with Ruth.

Her great wealth had enabled her, after much labor, to succeed in this endeavor, and Ruth was recognized by her husband's family. The fortune which Aaron had settled upon Ruth had not been used in the carrying out of her desire; it was deposited in the bank, where only Aaron's signature was needed to prove his right to it.

And now she begged them to accompany her; she wished to show them something, and her carriage was at the door.

It conveyed them to a handsome house in a good neighborhood, and Aaron's heart throbbed with gratitude as he saw in it all the memorials of his old home which he and Rachel held dear.

On the walls were the portraits of himself and Rachel which had been presented to him on the day when all his friends had assembled to do him honor. Happy tears ran down Rachel's face as Aaron walked with her through the rooms and described their contents. In the study he paused, lifted something from the table, and placed it in Rachel's hands.

"Your silver-mounted pipe," she exclaimed.

"My silver-mounted pipe," he answered. "My life, with this pipe and the dear picture of yourself sitting beneath the cherry tree, and holding your dear hand, I could go through the world in perfect happiness and content."

"O Lord of the Universe," said Rachel, clasping her hands, and lifting her lovely face, "I thank thee humbly for all thy goodness to me and mine!"

THE END