he better lose? All that he has in the world, or the girl that has taken his fancy?" "I would sooner lose the world twice over than lose him." "Yes; but you are only. a woman. Think of his position. There is not a Jew in all Prague respected among us as he is respected. He knows more, can do more, has more of wit and cleverness, than any of us. We look to him to win for the Jews in Prague something of the freedom which Jews have elsewhere, in Paris and in London. If he takes a Christian for his wife, all this will be destroyed." "But all will be well if he were to marry you!" Now it was Rebecca's turn to pause; but it was not for long. "I love him dearly," she said; "with a love as warm as yours." "And therefore I am to be untrue to him," said Nina, again seating herself. And were I to become his wife," continued Rebecca, not regarding the interruption, "it would be well with him in a worldly point of view. All our people would be glad, because there has been friendship between the families from of old. His father would be pleased, and he would become rich; and I also am not without some wealth of my own." "While I am poor," said Nina; "so poor that, look here, I can only mend my rags. There, look at my shoes. I have not another pair to my feet. But if he likes me, poor and ragged, better than he likes you, rich' She got so far, raising her voice as she spoke; but she could get no farther, for her sobs stopped her voice. If you will say to me that you will release him from his promise. I will swear to you, by the God whom we both worship, that I will never become his wife that he shall never touch me or speak to me in love." She had risen before she made this proposal, and now stood before Nina with one hand raised, with her blue eyes fixed upon Nina's face, and a solemnity in her manner which for a while startled Nina into silence. "You will believe my word, I am sure," said Reberca. "Yes, I would believe you," said Nina. "Shall it be a bargain between us? Say so, and whatever is mine shall be mine and yours too. Though a Jew may not make a Christian his wife, a Jewish girl may love a Christian maiden;- and then, Nina, we shall both know that we have done our very best for him whom we both love better than all the world beside." -- Nina was again silent, considering the proposition that had been made to her. There was one thing that she did not see; one point of view in which the matter had not been presented to her. The cause for her sacrifice had been made plain to her, but why was the sacrifice of the other also to become necessary? By not yielding she might be able to keep her lover to herself; but if she were to be induced to abandon him for his sake, so that he might not be ruined by his love for her-why, in that case, should he not take the other girl for his wife? In such a case Nina told herself that there would be no world left for her. There would be nothing left for her beyond the accomplishment of Lotta Luxa's prophecy. But yet, though she thought of this, though in her misery she half resolved that she would give up Anton, and not exact from Rebecca the oath which the Jewess had tendered, stil, in spite of that feeling, the dread of a rival's success helped to make her feel that she could never bring herself to yield. But while she was struggling to speak, the other girl rose and knelt at Nina's feet, putting her long tapering fingers upon Nina's threadbare arms, so that her forehead was almost close to Nina's lips. "He does," said Rebecca. "It is true - quite true. He loves you, poor as you are, ten times a hundred times-better than he loves me, who am not poor. You have won it altogether by yourself, with nothing of outside" art to back you. You have your triumph. Will not that be enough for a life's contentment?" "No;-no, no," said Nina. "No, it will not be enough." But her voice now was not altogether sorrowful. There was in it something of a wild joy which had come to her heart from the generous admission which the Jewess made. She did triumph as she remembered that she had conquered with no other weapons than those which nature had given her." "Shall it be as I say?" said Rebecca; and shall we, dear, be friends while we live?" "No," said Nina, suddenly. "You cannot bring yourself to do so much for the man you love?" "No, I cannot. Could you throw yourself from the bridge into the Moldau, and drown 'yourself?" "Yes," said Rebecca, "I could. If it would serve him, I think that I could do so." "What! in the dark, when it is so cold? The people would see you in the day-time." "It is more of contentment than I shall "But I would live, that I might hear of ever have," said Rebecca. 'Listen to me. I his doings, and see his success.' 66 "Ah! I could not live without feeling that he loved me." - "But what will you think of his love when it has ruined him? Will it be pleasant then? Were I to do that, then then I should bethink myself of the cold river and the dark night, and the eyes of the passers-by whom I should be afraid to meet in the day-time. I ask you to be as I am. Who is there that pities me? Think again, Nina. I know you would wish that he should be prosperous. Nina did think again, and thought long. And she wept, and the Jewess comforted her, and many words were said between them beyond those which have been here set down; but, in the end, Nina could not bring herself to say that she would give him up. For his sake had she not given up her uncle and her aunt, and St. John and St. Nicholas and the very Virgin herself, whose picture she had now removed from the wall beside her bed to a dark drawer? How could she give up that which was everything she had in the world—the very life of her bosom?" I will ask him-himhimself," she said at last, hoarsely. "I will ask him, and do as he bids me. I cannot do anything unless it is as he bids me.” "In this matter you must act on your own judgment, Nina." the Jews of Prague would treat him somewhat as the Christians would treat herself. For herself such treatment would be nothing, if she were but once married; but she could understand that to him it would be ruinous. And Nina believed also that Rebecca had been entirely disinterested in her mission that she came thither, not to gain a lover for herself, but to save from injury the man she loved, without reference to her own passion. Nina knew that Rebecca was strong and good, and acknowledged also that she herself was weak and selfish. She thought that she ought to have been persuaded to make the sacrifice, and once or twice she almost resolved that she would follow Rebecca to the Jews' quarter and tell her that it should be made. But she could not do it. Were she to do so, what would be left to her? With him she could bear anything, everything. To starve would hardly be bitter to her, so that his arm could be round her waist and that her head could be on his shoulder. And, moreover, was she not his to do with as he pleased? After all her promises to him, how could she take upon herself to dispose of herself otherwise than as he might direct? But then some thought of the missing document came back upon her, and she "No, I will not. I have no judgment. remembered in her grief that he suspected He must judge for me in everything. If be her- that even now he had some frightful it is better that we should part, then-doubt as to her truth to him- her faith, then-then I will let him go." says After this Rebecca left the room and the house. Before she went, she kissed the Christian girl; but Nina did not remember that she had been kissed. Her mind was so full, not of thought, but of the suggestion that had been made to her, that it could now take no impression from anything else. She had been recommended to do a thing as her duty as a paramount duty towards him who was everything to her the doing of which it would be impossible that she should survive. So she told herself when she was once more alone, and had again seated herself in the chair by the window. She did not for a moment accuse Rebecca of dealing unfairly with her. It never occurred to her as possible that the Jewess had come to her with false views of her own fabrication. Had she so believed, her suspicions would have done great injustice to her rival; but no such idea presented itself to Nina's mind. All that Rebecca had said to her had come to her as though it were gospel. She did believe that Trendellshon, as a Jew, would injure himself greatly by marrying a Christian. She did believe that which was, alas, alas! more firm and bright towards him than towards that heavenly Friend whose aid would certainly suffice to bring her through all her troubles, if only she could bring herself to trust as she asked it. But she could trust only in him, and he doubted her! Would it not be better to do as Rebeeca said, and make the most of such contentment as might come to her from her triumph over herself? That would be better ten times better than to be abandoned by him to be deserted by her Jew lover, because the Jew would not trust her a Christian! On either side there could be nothing for her but death; but there is a choice even of deaths. If she did the thing herself, she thought that there might be something sweet even in the sadness of her last hour- something of the flavour of sacrifice. But should it be done by him, in that way there lay nothing but the madness of desolation! It was her last resolve, as she still sat at the window counting the sparrows in the yard, that she would tell him everything, and leave it to him to decide. If. he would say that it was better for them to part, then he might go; and Rebecca it. CHAPTER XI. Nina was deceiving his son- that Nina was in truth holding back the deed with some view which he could hardly fathom. Ziska Zamenoy had declared, with all the emphasis in his power, that the document was to the best of his belief in Nina's hands; and, though Ziska's emphasis would not have gone far in convincing the Jew, had the Jew's mind been turned in the other direction, now it had its effect. Loth might become his wife, if he so wished out of Bohemia," Trendellshon had said to himself. "He has earned it, and he shall have it. He has worked for me - for us both without asking me, his father, to bind myself with any bond. He shall have the wealth which is his own, but he shall ON one of these days old Trendellshon not have it here. Ah! if he would but went to the office of Karil Zamenoy, in the take that other one as his bride, he should Ross Markt, with the full determination of have everything, and his father's blessing learning in truth what there might be to be - and then he would be the first instead learned as to that deed which would be so of the last among his people." Such was necessary to him, or to those who would the purpose of Stephen Trendellshon tocome after him, when Josef Balatka might wards his son; but this, his real purpose, die. He accused himself of having been did not hinder him from threatening worse foolishly soft-hearted in his transactions things. To prevent the marriage was his with this Christian, and reminded himself great object; and if threats would prevent from time to time that no Jew in Prague it, why should he not use them? would have been so treated by any Christian. But now he had conceived the idea that And what was the return made to him? Among them they had now secreted that of which he should have enforced the rendering before he had parted with his own money; and this they did because they knew that he would be unwilling to take harsh legal proceedings against a bed-ridden old man! In this frame of mind he went to the Ross Markt, and there he was assured over and over again by Ziska Zamenoy for Karil Zamenoy was not to be" And who gave it her?" Tendellsohn had seen that Nina Balatka had the deed in her own keeping. The name of Nina Balatka was becoming very grievous to the old man. Even he, when the matter had first been broached to him, had not recognized all the evils which would come from a marriage between his son and a Christian maiden; but of late his neighbours had been around him, and he had looked into the thing, and his eyes had been opened, and he had declared to himself that he would not take a Christian girl into his house as his daughter-in-law. He could not prevent the marriage. The law would be on his son's side. The law of the Christian kingdom in which he lived allowed such marriages, and Anton, if he executed the contract which would make the marriage valid, would in truth be the girl's husband. "Ah! that is the confidence of what But-and Trendellshon, as he remembered you call love. She is honest, you think, the power which was still in his hands, al- because she has a pretty face." most regretted that he held it if this She is honest, I think, because she loves thing were done, his son must go out from me." his house, and be his son no longer. The old man was very proud of his son. Rebecca had said truly that no Jew in Prague was so respected among Jews as Anton Trendellshon. She might have added, also, that none was more highly esteemed among Christians. To lose such a son would be a loss indeed. "I will share everything with him, and he shall go away . asked. "Ah, there you must excuse me," Ziska had answered; "though, indeed, I could not tell you if I would. But we have nothing to do with the matter. We have no claim upon the houses. It is between you and the Balatkas." Then the Jew had left the Zamenoys' office, and had gone home, fully believing that the deed was in. Nina's hands. he 66 66 Yes, it is so she is deceiving you," said to his son that evening. No, father. I think not." "Very well. You will find when it is too late that my words are true. Have you ever known a Christian who thought it wrong to rob a Jew?" "I do not believe that Nina would rob me.' "Bah! Does love make men honest, or women either? Do we not see every day how these Christians rob each other in their money dealings when they are marrying? What was the girl's name? - old Thibolski's daughter-how they robbed her when they married her, and how her people tried their best to rob the lad she married. Did we not see it all?" "It was not the girl who did it the girl herself." you so?" not "Why should a woman be honester than a man? I tell you, Anton, that this girl has the deed." "Ziska Zamenoy has told 46 Yes, he has told me. man to be deceived because Ziska wishes to deceive me. know me better than that. I tell you, Ziska himself believes." "But Ziska may believe wrongly." Why should he do so? Whose interest can it be to make this thing seem so, if it be not so? If the girl have the deed, you can get it more readily from her than from the Zamenoys. Believe me, Anton, the deed is with the girl." 46 "If it be so, I shall never believe again in the truth of a human being," said the son. 66 "Believe in the truth of your own people," said the father. Why should you seek to be wiser than them all?" The father did not convince the son, but the words which he had spoken helped to create a doubt which already had almost an existence of its own. Anton Trendellsohn was prone to suspicions, and now was beginning to suspect Nina, although he strove hard to keep his mind free from such taint. His better nature told him that it was impossible that she should deceive him. He had read the very inside of her heart, and knew that her own delight was in his love. He understood perfectly the weakness and faith and beauty of her feminine nature, and her trusting, leaning softness was to his harder spirit as water to a thirsting man in the desert. him, unconsciously, the glory which he de - He He went forth for a while, walking slowly through the streets, as he thought of this, wandering without an object, but turning over in his mind his father's words. knew that bis father was anxious to prevent his marriage. He knew that every Jew around him for now the Jews around him had all heard of it- was keenly anxious to prevent so great a disgrace. He knew all that his father had threatened, and he was well aware how complete was his father's power. But he could stand against all that. if only Nina were true to him. He would go away from Prague. What did it matter? Prague was not all the world. There were cities better, nobler, richer than Prague, in which his brethren, the Jews, would not turn their backs upon him because he had married a Christian. It might be that he would have to begin When she clung to him, promising to obey the world again; but for that, too, he would him in everything, the touch of her hands, be prepared. Nina had shown that she and the sound of her voice, and the be- could bear poverty. Nina's torn boots seeching glance of her loving eyes, were and threadbare dress, and the utter abfood and drink to him. He knew that her sence of any request ever made with represence refreshed him and cooled him-gard to her own comfort, had not been lost made him young as he was growing old, and filled his mind with sweet thoughts which hardly came to him but when she was with him. He had told himself over and over again that it must be good for him to have such a one for his wife, whether she were Jew or Christian. He knew himself to be a better man when she was with him than at other moments of his life. And then he loved her. He was thinking of her hourly, though his impatience to see her was not as hers to be with him. He loved her. But yet-yet-what if she should be deceiving him? To be able to deceive others but never to be deceived himself, was to upon him. He knew how noble she was in bearing-how doubly noble she was in never asking. If only there was nothing of deceit at the back to mar it all! He passed over the bridge, hardly knowing whither he was going, and turned directly down towards Balatka's house. As he did so he observed that certain repairs were needed in an adjoining building which belonged to his father, and determined that a mason should be sent there on the next day. Then he turned in under the archway, not passing through it into the court, and there he stood looking up at the window, in which Nina's small solitary love would he not repay her in future days for all that she would have suffered for his sake! At last the little light was quenched, and Anton Trendellsohn felt that he was alone. The unseen companion of his thoughts was no longer with him, and it was useless for him to remain there standing in the archway. He blew her a kiss from his lips, and blessed her in his heart, and protested to himself that he knew she would come out of the fire pure altogether and proved to be without dross. And then he went his way. In the meantime Nina, chill and wretched, crept to her cold bed, all unconscious of the happiness that had been so near her. "If he thinks I can be false to him, it will be better to die," she said to herself, as she drew the scanty clothing over her shivering shoulders. lamp was twinkling. He knew that she was sitting by the light, and that she was working. He knew that she would be raised almost to a seventh heaven of delight But she must be made to go through the if he would only call her to the door and fire again. He would tax her with the posspeak to her a dozen words before he re- session of the missing deed, and call upon turned to his home. But he had no thought her to cleanse herself from the accusation of doing it. Was it possible that she which was made against her. Once again should have this document in her keeping? he would be harsh with her-harsh in apthat was the thought that filled his pearance only-in order that his subsemind. He had bribed Lotta Luxa, and quent tenderness might be so much more Lotta had sworn by her Christian gods that tender! She had already borne much, and the deed was in Nina's hands. If the thing she must be made to endure once again. was false, why should they all conspire to Did not he mean to endure much for her tell the same falsehood? And yet he knew sake? Was he not prepared to recommence that they were false in their natures. Their the troubles and toil of his life all from the manner, the words of each of them, be- beginning, in order that she might be that trayed something of falsehood to his well-life's companion? Surely he had the right tuned ear, to his acute eye, to his sharp to put her through the fire, and prove her senses. But with Nina-from Nina her- as never gold was proved before. self-everything that came from her spoke of truth. A sweet savour of honesty hung about her breath, and was a blessing to him when he was near enough to her to feel it. And yet he told himself that he was bound to doubt. He stood for some half-hour in the archway, leaning against the stonework at the sile, and looking up at the window where Nina was sitting. What was he to do? How should he carry himself in this special period of his life? Great ideas about the destiny of his people were mingled in his mind with suspicions as to Nina of which he should have been, and probably was, ashamed. He would certainly take her away from Prague. He had already perceived that his marriage with a Christian would be regarded in that stronghold of prejudice in which he lived with so much animosity as to impede, and perhaps destroy, the utility of his career. He would go away, taking Nina with him. And he would be careful that she should never know, by a word or a look, that he had in any way suffered for her sake. And he swore to himself that he would be soft to her, and gentle, loving her with a love more demonstrative than he had hitherto exhibited. He knew that he had been stern, exacting, and sometimes harsh. All that should be mended. He had learned her character, and perceived how absolutely she fed upon his love; and he would take care that the food should always be there, palpably there, for her sustenance. Butbut he must try her yet once more before all this could be done for her. She must pass yet once again through the fire; and if then she should come forth as gold, she should be to him the one pure ingot which the earth contained. With how great a As she did so her lover walked home, and having come to a resolution which was intended to be definite as to his love, he allowed his thoughts to run away with him to other subjects. After all, it would be no evil to him to leave Prague. At Prague how little was there of progress either in thought or in things material! At Prague a Jew could earn money, and become rich might own half the city; and yet at Prague he could only live as an outcast. As regarded the laws of the land, he, as a Jew, might fix his residence anywhere in Prague or around Prague; he might have gardens, and lands, and all the results of money; he might put his wife into a carriage twice as splendid as that which constituted the great social triumph of Madame Zamenoy; - but so strong against such a mode of life were the traditional prejudices of both Jews and Christians, that any such fashion of living would be absolutely impossible to him. It would not be good for him that be should remain at Prague. Knowing his father as |