Aaron the Jew: A Novel

"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. Apart from the personal consideration of the matter so far as it affects myself, and from another consideration which doubtless is in your mind, Mr. Storndale has acted as honourably as we could expect from one in his position. There has been concealment and deception, but it is not for me to cast a stone against him. The young man is in difficulties, and I have resolved to clear him from them, and to provide for Ruth's 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, and I value your friendship; 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."

"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's hand, and then 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 a gentleman, 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 honourable 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 public property. 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 finished. 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? Have you calculated how much it will cost you? A large sum, Cohen."

"It will be forthcoming; the means will be placed in your hands to-morrow. Do not return here tonight. 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 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 entrust 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 realise a sum of about ninety thousand pounds, in addition to which there were his house and furniture, which would realise another ten thousand. One third of this would be sufficient to provide for Ruth and her husband, one third should be divided among the Jewish charities, and one third should be invested for himself and Rachel. This would produce an income of between eight and nine hundred pounds, 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 honour in the synagogue which he would immediately resign; there and then he wrote his letters of resignation. There had been a time when he was called upon to support a movement in respect of these honourable offices. A man who had grown rich by usury and fraud had succeeded in getting himself nominated for a high position in the synagogue, and this had aroused the displeasure of the more respectable members of the community, who had enlisted Aaron on their side. His all-powerful influence had settled the question, and the usurer was taught a salutary lesson. From that time a strict watch was kept upon these dignities, which were conferred upon none whose past lives would not bear strict scrutiny. Aaron thought of this as he drew forth the address upon modern Judaism he had undertaken to deliver, hoping thereby to counteract the loose views of religious obligations 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 labours. 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 Esther." 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 Esther do not hint at 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 daresay my friends will be surprised; but I am fixed, nothing can induce me to 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, and you will not be allowed to retire without remonstrance. But we will wait till Sunday, when you are to deliver your address upon 'Judaism, its Duties and Obligations.' After it is delivered it will be printed in pamphlet form, will it not?"

"No; it will be neither delivered nor printed."

"Cohen!" exclaimed Mr. Moss, amazed at this statement.

"It is as I say, Mr. Moss," said Aaron, firmly.

"But 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 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. But I do not see what you can have 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 cheque 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 tomorrow 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." Under his breath he added, "Nor what I expected, either."

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

They had a busy time with lawyers, stockbrokers, bank managers, and creditors, and Aaron just managed to catch the two-twenty train for Bournemouth. He passed a quiet evening with Rachel and Esther, and answered such questions put by his wife concerning Ruth in a manner which seemed to satisfy her, for she did not press him upon the subject. With Esther he had a private conversation, and cautioned her to preserve silence as to the letter she had received. On the following morning he took 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 Honourable Percy Storndale to him, "and I am thinking of taking Ruth to the Continent tomorrow."

"Yes," said Aaron, absently.

"But," added Mr. Storndale, "the trip will have no pleasure for her if she does not see you before we go."

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

They met and parted without any warm expression of affection. Such a demonstration from Ruth towards 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 life-long kindness towards her, and by her fear that he was quietly angry with her; while Aaron was held back by the consciousness of his wrong-doing. And so the young couple went forth to commence their new life, and the secret of Ruth's birth was still unrevealed.

CHAPTER XLI

THERE IS A PROVIDENCE THAT SHAPES OUR ENDS

Two weeks had passed away. Joseph had come and gone. In the company of Esther 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 improved, and it touched Aaron deeply to observe how she clung to her son and Esther, as though she were seeking in them a recompense for what she was losing in Ruth. He exerted himself to be bright and cheerful, and flattered himself that he was succeeding; but, indeed, during these days he was not the only one who was playing a part. Rachel was also exerting herself to hide the cloud which was hanging over her spirits because of the prolonged absence of Ruth, as to whom both she and Aaron seemed now to have entered into a loving conspiracy of silence.

With Joseph Aaron was compelled to be more open, and to the young man and his affianced he imparted the news of Ruth's secret marriage.

"I have not yet broken it to your dear mother," said Aaron, "in consequence of the state of her health. But she is growing stronger every day, and when you are gone I will break it to her gently." He turned to Esther, and said, "You stand now in Ruth's place, and in you I also have gained a daughter. Do not let this news distress you. Be true to each other, be steadfast to the old faith, and all will be well. And be careful to say nothing to the dear mother. Leave that task to me."

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 so many years, rendered it necessary that he should be in London the greater part of these two weeks; and Mr. Moss, who was endeavouring to get his own affairs in order, was his constant companion during this time. The private distribution of so large a sum of money as Aaron had set apart for charity was no easy matter, and the officers of the institutions which were the richer for his benevolence used much persuasion to induce him to make his benefactions public; but on this point he was resolved. The other important matter which occupied him was the transference of his existing contracts. His great rival, Mr. Poynter, was especially anxious to obtain a share of this business, and with that object in view he called upon Aaron. But the two men could not agree; it was not a question of terms, but a question as to certain stipulations with respect to wages and hours of labour which Aaron insisted upon.

"Surely," protested Mr. Poynter, "you do not arrogate the right to dictate to other employers what they shall pay their workmen?"

"Not at all," Aaron replied, "where I am not concerned. But these contracts are mine; numbers of the workmen have been in my employ for years, and I must protect them."

"Protect them!" exclaimed Mr. Poynter, angrily. "Against me!"

"Against all," said Aaron, firmly, "who would pay workmen less than a fair living wage, and would put too severe a strain upon bone and muscle."

"Bone and muscle!" cried Mr. Poynter. "Bone and fiddlesticks! You are talking common cant, Mr. Cohen."

The interview grew stormy, and did not last much longer. When Mr. Poynter departed it was with a burning anger against Aaron, and with a burning desire for revenge. From that moment he looked about for the means of compassing this revenge. "If I could only bring him down!" he thought, "if I could only bring him down!"

At the end of the fortnight Aaron was in London, his labours over, and at this time his own fortune amounted to something over forty-five thousand pounds, a larger sum than he had 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, their honeymoon trip having come suddenly to an end 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. He would have called earlier, but he had an appointment with Mr. Moss at six, his intention being to make to his old friend a full disclosure of his secret respecting Ruth. On the following day Rachel and Esther were coming back to London, as Rachel did not wish to remain longer in Bournemouth.

Aaron was waiting now in his study for Mr. Moss. The cares and sorrows of the past few months had left their mark upon him. The grey hairs had multiplied fast, the lines in his face had deepened, and in the kind eyes and benevolent countenance there was a touch of childlike pathos, as though the strong man had suddenly grown weak, and was mutely appealing for mercy.

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

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

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

"About your bank, the Colonial 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 am aware of it, but it cannot affect me. I have no investments now, with the solitary exception of my bank shares. All my affairs are settled, and what is left of my fortune is in the bank until I decide how to invest it."

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

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

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

"Certainly-to the extent of the unpaid portion of their shares. Perhaps beyond that-I am not quite sure."

The flush had died out of Mr. Moss's 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 every one's lips. If your bank stops payment tomorrow 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," answered Aaron, with a smile.

"And it is only yesterday that you were-" He could not continue, and Aaron took up his words.

"It is only yesterday that I was on the 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; though there is no smoke without a fire. We will wait till to-morrow."

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

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the 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! What can he want here?"

"Show the gentleman up," said Aaron to the servant, after a moment's consideration.

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

"If you have no objection," replied Aaron, "I should prefer that you 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 had come to your house 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; it is more than likely that I have a distinct connection with your business, and this must be my excuse for wishing to be present. 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 honourable 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's 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 unhappy mother and her child."

"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 highest terms. The commission entrusted 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 entrusted to him. He informed me that she died very shortly, as I understood, 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 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, entrusted to me a small iron casket-it was one I gave her, and I can identify it-in which she deposited some articles, of the nature of which I was 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 over 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 obtain the box which she delivered into my charge."