A Fair Jewess

"You will be no worse off than a thousand men who are plunging."

"The majority of whom, before another sun rises, will find themselves disgraced. No, Mr. Moss, no. I have never dabbled in stocks and shares at the risk of my good name, and I never will. There is but one way to meet misfortune, and that is the straight way. We will go to the City, and ascertain, if we can, exactly how matters stand. Rachel and Rose do not return from Bournemouth till the afternoon."

In the City they learned the worst, and Aaron realized that he was beggared.

"Can you save nothing from the wreck?" asked Mr. Moss.

"Nothing," replied Aaron. "It may be that all I possess may not be sufficient to clear me. I think you had better take Rose back with you to Portsmouth; you have been absent from your business too long."

"I must go this evening," said Mr. Moss, "but Rose can stay. She will be a comfort to Mrs. Cohen."

"No, take her with you. In this crisis Rachel, I know, would prefer to be alone with me. Besides," he added, with a sad smile, "I have to provide another home, and I must be careful of my shillings."

"Another home, Cohen. What do you mean?"

"With certain ruin staring me in the face, and with claims coming upon me which I may not be able to meet, I must begin immediately to retrench. Our establishment is an expensive one, and I dare not carry it on a day longer than is necessary. Rachel and I will sleep in the house to-night for the last time. To-morrow I will pay off the servants, and we shall move into humbler quarters. So tumble down all our grand castles. Well, it has happened to better men, who, after years of toil, have to begin life over again. Rachel will not mind; we have faced poverty before to-day, and will face it again cheerfully."

"It drives me wild to hear you speak like that!" exclaimed Mr. Moss. "You are looking only on the black side. If you had the money you have got rid of the last two or three weeks-"

"Hush! Mr. Moss, hush!" said Aaron, interrupting him. "It is a consolation to me to know that the greater part of my legitimately earned fortune has been so well bestowed. I am glad I did not wait to make reparation for the great error of my life. Rachel has yet to hear my confession. If I obtain her forgiveness I can face the future bravely and cheerfully."

Under the seal of confidence Aaron had made Mr. Moss and Dr. Spenlove acquainted with the particulars of the story of the two babes and of the deception he had practiced in his home in Gosport. Mr. Moss was not greatly astonished, for the hints lately dropped by his friend had prepared him for some disclosure of a strange nature.

"Besides," he said inwardly to himself, "Ruth bears no likeness to either Mr. or Mrs. Cohen. How blind we have all been!"

In his weak moments Mr. Moss was rather inclined to be wise after the event. Both he and Dr. Spenlove had pledged themselves to secrecy, but when they proceeded to justify Aaron for the act he stopped them, saying it was a matter between him and his conscience. Now on this disastrous morning, as they walked from the City, Mr. Moss asked Aaron whether he intended to tell his wife to-day.

"Not to-day," Aaron answered. "I must bide my time. The news that we are poor will be as much as Rachel can bear."

CHAPTER XL.

"CAN YOU FORGIVE ME?"

On the evening of the same day Aaron and Rachel were alone in their house in Prince's Gate. Rose had taken her leave of them, and she and her father were traveling to Portsmouth, Mr. Moss with a heavy heart; he was older than Aaron, and was not so courageous in the hour of adversity.

"What makes you so melancholy, father?" said Rose.

"When you reach my age, Rose," he replied, "I hope you will not discover that life is a dream."

The remark seemed to him rather fine and philosophical, but had he been asked to explain its precise meaning he would have found it difficult.

"I hope I shall, father," said Rose as she leaned back and thought of her lover; "a happy dream."

"I am glad to get back to you and to our dear home," Rachel was saying to her husband at the same moment. "You must never send me away again. Indeed, dear Aaron, if you intend it I shall for once in my life be rebellious, and shall refuse to go."

She spoke tenderly and playfully, and held his hand in hers, as in the olden days.

"Nevertheless, my love, your short visit to the seaside has done you good."

"Yes, dear, I am almost well; I feel much stronger."

"There is the justification," said Aaron. "I am not happy away from you, but there are occasions when it is our duty to make sacrifices. This is the longest separation there has been between us in the twenty-six years of our married life."

"How time has flown!" she mused. "Twenty-six years of happiness. It has always been the same, dear husband, whether we were poor or rich, I cannot recall a day in the past without its flower which money could not purchase."

"You make my task easier, Rachel," said Aaron. "I have something to disclose to you."

"And it is not good news, love," she said in a tone of much sweetness.

"It is not good news, Rachel. By what means have you divined that?"

"I see without eyes. In the early days of my blindness I used to tell you that I was acquiring new senses. It is true. Some accent in your voice, the touch of your hand, conveys the message to my mind, and I wait in patience, as I am waiting now. Aaron, my dear husband, I have known for some time past that you have a sorrow which one day you will ask me to share. How have I known it? I cannot tell, but it is clear to me. You have not had a joy in your life apart from me. It is my right, is it not, to share your sorrows?"

"It is your right, Rachel, and you shall share them. I have not been without my errors; once in the past my footsteps strayed, but in the straying I inflicted suffering upon no human being."

"Of that I am sure, my love. It is human to err, but it is not in your nature to inflict suffering or commit an injustice. I am not pressing you to confide in me before, in your judgment, the proper time arrives. Nothing can shake my faith and trust in you."

He regarded her in silence a while. The turn the conversation had taken favored the disclosure of his secret respecting Ruth, but he feared to speak of that and of his ruin in the same hour. The latter was the more imperative, because it demanded immediate action, and he resolved to confine himself to it on this evening.

"Your loving instinct, Rachel, has not misled you. I have a secret which I have concealed from you."

"Fearing to give me pain, dear husband."

"Yes; and fearing that it would disturb the faith you have in me. I place so high a value upon it that my life would be dark indeed were I to lose it."

"That is impossible, dear. Banish the fear from your mind. Were the hands of all men raised against you I would stand before you as your shield, and they would not dare to strike. So long as you are by my side I am happy and content."

"Dear life of my life, you inspire me with hope. But one secret which oppresses me cannot be divulged to-night. It is of my worldly troubles I must speak now; the rest shall follow at a more fitting time. Rachel, for twenty years Heaven has showered prosperity upon me; all my undertakings have succeeded, and I have heard it said, 'Everything Aaron Cohen touches turns to gold.' It really has been so. I accumulated a large fortune, and-with humbleness I say it-no man, however high or low his station, was the loser by it. But a breath may destroy what the labors of a lifetime have created. If such a reverse has come to me, Rachel, how would you accept it?"

"Without murmuring, love," she said, drawing him close to her, and kissing his lips. "I should have but one regret-that I could not work for you as you have worked for me. But that, also, is God's will, and I have never repined. Who would presume to question his wisdom? His name be praised forever and ever!

"Amen! In our old home in Gosport you were happy."

"I have never been happier, Aaron. I have sometimes felt pride in your successes, but surely that is pardonable. Love is the most precious gift that life can bestow. All else is nought. It is our soul life and dies not with the body."

"You do not value money, Rachel?"

"For the good it may do to others, not for the good it can do to the possessor; for the suffering it may be made the means of relieving, for the blessings it may bring into the lives of the afflicted and unfortunate. Then it becomes Godlike, and when so used the angels smile approval."

"Dear love, you lighten my burden. When I won you my life was blessed. Listen, Rachel. This is a dark day for many men who find themselves fallen from their high estate. Despair sits in many homes at this hour."

"But not in ours, Aaron, whatever has happened."

"Thank God! It is my happy belief that this hour is not dark for us. It was my intention, Rachel, to retire altogether from business and public life, and to that end I took advantage of your absence from London to settle my affairs. My resolution was prompted by the secret, the burden of which, although I have not yet disclosed it to you, you have made it lighter for me to bear. Brought to public knowledge, which I fear its peculiar nature will render inevitable, it will be immediately said that I am unfitted to retain my position as a leader and teacher. To tarry until that judgment was pronounced would be to aggravate the disaster, and I resolved to anticipate the verdict by resigning the honors which have been conferred upon me. I have done so, and I have withstood the pressure that has been put upon me to withdraw my resignation. An examination of my worldly affairs resulted in my finding myself in possession of nearly a hundred thousand pounds. I divided this into three portions, one of which I intended to retain in order that we might pass what years of life remained to us in comfort; the second portion I devoted to charity, and it has thus been distributed; the third portion was devoted to repairing to some extent the error of which I had been guilty."

He looked at Rachel after he had uttered these words, which he had spoken with averted head. There was no change in her. Sweetness and sympathy were expressed in her beautiful face, and it seemed as if her soul's light dwelt thereon.

"Do you approve, Rachel?"

"Entirely, love. Let me hold your hand."

He continued. "The money I intended for our private use was lodged in a City bank, and in this bank I hold shares for which I am liable to the depositors. Yesterday Mr. Moss brought me news of a commercial crisis in which I discerned-"

"Go on, dear husband, I am prepared for the worst."

"In which I discerned my ruin. This morning I convinced myself that the news was true."

"And we are poor again," said Rachel in a gentle voice.

"And we are poor again. Everything is lost. I do not know the extent of my liabilities upon the shares I hold in the bank, but it is certain that my property in this house and what it contains will scarcely be sufficient to meet them. I have nothing more to tell of my worldly trouble, Rachel."

"Dear love," said Rachel sweetly, with her arms around him, "it is a small trouble, and we will meet it bravely. With all my heart and soul I will help you to meet it. We cannot remain in the house; the expenses are too great."

"You echo my own words, Rachel. I have already discharged the servants, and have paid what is due to them. To-morrow they take their departure, and we must be content to move into humbler quarters."

"I am content," said Rachel. "I am happy. We have each other. What does Prissy say?"

"She will not leave us. With or without my consent, she insists upon sharing our poverty."

"Dear, faithful girl! Let it be as she wishes, love. I know her constant, devoted nature. She will be a comfort to both of us."

She paused before she spoke again, and then it was in a voice trembling with emotion.

"We commence a new life to-morrow. O Aaron, dear husband, my heart is aching, not because we are poor, not for myself, but for you, love, for you! Aaron, you have said nothing of Ruth. Let this night end your sorrows, and let me share them now. It is the thought of Ruth that oppresses you. I feel it, I have known it long, but did not dare to mention it. Give me all your confidence; I am well, I am strong. There is nothing I cannot bear for your dear sake."

He could not resist the appeal. In a voice as tremulous as her own he made confession of his sin, and not for one moment while he spoke would she relinquish his hand. And when his confession was ended she held him close in her embrace and mingled her tears with his.

"Can you forgive me, Rachel?"

"It is for me to bless, not to forgive," she sobbed. "For me you strayed, for me you have suffered. Comfort his bruised heart, O God, who sees and judges! And, Aaron, dear and honored husband, we have still a son to bless our days!"

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.