hesitate for a minute; but immediately afterwards a scornful horse
laugh resounded. Naturally strong, indignation gave me double force.
With a powerful blow of the fist I compelled the biggest of them, who
had got tight hold of the poor sufferer, to let him go. I disengaged
the little pale Jew-boy who was bleeding at mouth and nose, and whilst
I encircled him with my left arm, I threatened with the right to fling
into the river whoever dared come near us with hostile intention.
Twenty strong clenched fists let fly at me. I accepted the unequal
struggle with superior numbers, and they soon perceived that they had
to do with an antagonist, at least much surpassing any single one of
them in strength.... I resisted till my call for assistance brought up
some Jews who fetched the watch. The wild troop dispersed on their
arrival with a loud shout, and I carried, though myself bleeding from
many wounds, the fainting boy to the door of his house. The boy was
your father dear Schlome; Carpel Sachs, son of the wealthy Beer
Sachs.--Arrived at home, as soon as I had told my father what had
happened, I fell down and fainted.... My father poured some drops from
a flask into my wounds, kissed the blood from my face and smiled
kindly.--I was well again, I was happy! Next Friday the wealthy Reb
Beer Sachs sent me a beautiful new Sabbath-dress and three gold-pieces,
but the present was resolutely refused. The little Carpel had, in
consequence of the fright and the ill usage he had been exposed to,
been obliged to keep his bed for a week. The first time that he was
allowed to leave the house he came to thank me. The tears in his eyes,
the profound gratitude, the beautiful words with which the dear boy
knew how to give such a true and warm expression of this feeling, won
my heart. Carpel asked if he might often visit us, and as my father had
no objection to make, Carpel came to us as often as he had time, and a
firm bond of love and friendship was knitted between us, in which my
brother, also a noble-looking handsome boy took the warmest sympathy.
Carpel looked upon me, not unjustly, as his preserver, and his to a
certain extent respectful behaviour towards me, that he kept up even to
old age, caused almost the only difference in our kindly intercourse.
On the occasion of his frequent visits he not unseldom took part in our
lessons, and on his side only regretted that we, my brother and I,
could not make up our minds to come to his house; but the present of
the wealthy Reb Beer Sachs, who had never considered it necessary to
thank me in person for the real service which I had rendered his son,
had wounded us too deeply; and so it happened, that he scarcely knew
his son's preserver by sight.
"We boys spent our time monotonously and quietly, our life was now made
beautiful by the love of our little friend Carpel. But on a sudden the
hardest blow that could befall us, destroyed our calm happiness. It was
that feast of atonement when I and my brother, as we should in a few
days be thirteen years old; were fasting for the first time. The day
was declining, the departing sunbeams cast their red light, that
gradually faded before the advancing darkness, through the lofty narrow
windows of the Old-Synagogue, and the tapers were already dimly
burning. A profound silence prevailed in the vast space filled with
worshippers, when my father stepped to the desk to offer the appointed
evening prayer. I myself, though weary and excited, leant against the
marble enchased wall which incloses the steps that lead up to the
tabernacle in order to look my father in the face as I listened. He was
a wonderfully glorious man and at that moment was like an angel. Thus
had my childish spirit pictured the Prophet Elias!--His form was tall
and unbowed. The dark beard, but scantily sprinkled with grey, fell
down upon his breast and curved strikingly upwards against the long
white robe, while the locks of his hair, which forced their way from
under his turban, were already shining in the silvery glimmer. His
noble face now bore a stamp of the deepest devotion, and over his
flashing eyes, whose glance kindled enthusiasm, there glowed a dark
purple flame in the centre of his forehead. The prayers on the day of
atonement are striking, but in my father's mouth they made an
extraordinary impression. He did not look into the prayer-book that
laid open before him, but gazed heavenwards, so that it seemed as if
what he was saying came from the inspiration of the moment, as if he
was a divinely inspired seer. Every word that sounded with the full
melody of his voice from his lips penetrated victoriously and
irresistibly into the hearts of all present. As he repeated the
confession of sins with agitating expressiveness all were melted into
tears, and when on the other hand he gave utterance in prayer to a
devout trust in God's mercy, all felt exalted and strengthened. At
length he came to the end. With pious confidence in God he intoned
seven times at the top of his voice: 'The everlasting is our God' and
as the thousand voiced loud chorus of all who were present broke
magnificently against the vault of God's temple, my father sank
suddenly down:--I caught him in my arms....
"'I die,' he said in a feeble but audible voice. 'Lord of this
world! my father dared to breathe his life away upon the scaffold
for the glory of Thy holy name.--Me Thou hast not accounted worthy
of this favour.... but Thou permittest me to die here, on holy
ground, reconciled to Thee, at the conclusion of the festival of
atonement.--Father of all I thank thee!'--then he signed to my brother
also to draw near him, and said in faint dying voice that grew ever
weaker and weaker: 'My children, time presses.... Your mother rests in
the grave at Cologne.... In Prague, as attendant in this consecrated
house, I have passed the loveliest most tranquil years of my life....
Love one another.... sorrow not, despair not!... What God doeth that is
well done.... this world is but the vestibule of the next, bear this
ever in mind, and some day _on your own deathbeds inculcate it on your
children_--a benediction--a faint 'Hear oh Israel,' and the noble man
was no more!
"The day but one after we stood weeping at his grave as we returned to
our now desolate house, I asked my brother: 'What shall we do now?' The
sensible boy fixed his bright eyes upon me. 'Didst thou not hear what
our father said at his decease? Your mother lies buried in Cologne ...
We have prayed to-day at our father's grave, shall we not also visit
the last resting-place of our dear forsaken mother?'
"'Yes, yes dear, brother,' I cried, casting myself with loud sobs on
his breast, 'to Cologne, to Cologne, to our mother's grave.'
"During the seven days of mourning we arranged that directly after the
feast of tents we would start on our long journey. To our single friend
the little Carpel we made known our intention to his deep and infelt
regret. Tears rose in the poor boy's eyes, but he repressed them like a
man, that he might not vex us still more. On the feast of Tabernacles
we both, my brother and I, kept our 13th birthday. It was just the day
on which expositions are made. We attended the early service and got
ourselves called upon to expound. Then we went to the burial ground,
where the rulers of the Old-synagogue had caused a handsome gravestone
to be erected to my father, on which a bunch of grapes and the symbols
of a Levite were chiselled.... and then with slender bundle on back and
staff in hand went forth from the gate. Carpel accompanied us for an
hour. He pressed a small purse into the hand of each of us, and assured
us, that it consisted entirely of his own savings and that he had said
nothing to his father about this present. Then we renewed once more our
covenant of eternal friendship....
"'Forget me not, dear friends,' said Carpel as he took farewell....
'Mosche! I thank thee once more; we are still boys, but shall some day
be men, do not forget, Mosche; that in Prague you have a friend, whose
life you have saved, who is for ever thy debtor, who is prepared every
moment of his life to pay the heavy debt.... Forget me not, as I will
never forget thee! Carpel kissed me, my brother, then flung himself
once more sobbing aloud on my breast. Exerting all the force of my soul
I at length tore myself away.... We set off, Carpel sat himself down
upon a hillock and gazed weeping after us.... He was very sorry for
us.... We were so lonely, so forsaken. Father and mother lying in
the grave, and our one faithful little friend staying behind in
despair!--Ignorant of the road we wandered over all Germany. We
experienced many a sorrow, many a pain, but were sometimes entertained
compassionately and sympathetically. After a difficult journey of many
months we at length arrived at the end of our travel, at Cologne. Our
hearts beat high as we passed through the city-gate. But the unwonted
fatigues of the long way, had exhausted my brother's strength, and
the poor boy fell down, sick and worn out, in the open street. I was
alone with him in a strange city, my burning eyes sought help
despairingly--then God sent us a preserver. An elderly gentleman
stepped out of the house on the threshold of which my brother was lying
unconscious.
"'A sick child in the open street?' he enquired, 'who is the boy?'
"'It is my brother,' I answered shyly, 'we are orphans, we have come
from far away out of Bohemia, to visit our mother's grave....'
"'Carry the boy into the room upstairs,' was the gentleman's order,
'lay him in bed, let him have some broth, I will attend to him
directly....'
"'We are Jew-boys, gracious Sir,' I cried quickly.
"'I too am a Jew,' smiled the worthy man, 'I am Baruch Suess, favourite
physician to our gracious Elector, the Archbishop of Cologne.'"
Gabriel shuddered but read on:--
"Bustling servants carried my sick brother up the broad stairs into a
splendidly furnished room and laid him in bed. I stayed with my
brother. The noble humane Baruch Suess examined him with the greatest
attention and found that he was lying sick of an inflammatory fever,
that he probably would require nothing but complete repose, and
that it would not be possible to form a decided opinion as to the
further progress of the disorder till after a lapse of one and twenty
days.--Suddenly fresh childs' voices were heard at the door, which was
pulled open and two lovely maidens peeped into the room. The roguish
smile on their face rapidly yielded to the deepest emotion, as their
father enjoined silence by a sign, and informed them in a low voice
that they must give up their room for the present to a poor parentless
boy, who had fallen suddenly ill in the street. _The two maidens were
the daughters of Baruch Suess, Miriam and Perl_."
The manuscript escaped from Gabriel's nervously trembling hand. Must
the memory of his grandfather, of his mother, just to-day, in the hour
when, obstinately advancing, he wished to cut off the last possibility
of retreat, must it just to-day be awakened in him in such a strange,
unexpected, he was obliged reluctantly to admit, in such an almost
miraculous manner? Was he perhaps to discover in this writing, that a
curious accident had played into his hands at a critical moment, a
solution of the mystery of his birth? And if he did find it, should he
account all these remarkable coincidences as chance, or rather as a
wonderful proof of that all powerful providence which he had often so
defiantly challenged? These thoughts assailed Gabriel with all the
compass of their fearful import, and worked upon him all the more
effectually, as the tide of the swiftly succeeding events of the day
was calculated to shake the strongest determination. He paced
impetuously up and down the room. "I must not read further," he
muttered to himself, "till I have embraced a resolution. If I should
find a disclosure about my father in this manuscript, if I durst hope
that he would fold me in his arms, that he would press me lovingly to
his breast, Gabriel, what in the whole past, what in the future would
matter unto you? If I could find my father, if I could find him such as
I have always pictured him to myself in the short moments of blissful
dreams, if such I could fold him in my arms--though it were but
for the most infinitesimal instant of time that the human mind can
conceive--_God_!"
Gabriel's passionate excitement had attained a height that may easily
be imagined. In the most violent excess of a feeling that eagerly
sought an escape he had uttered the word, that, at least in his
self-communings, had not passed his lips for a long series of years,
and he almost shuddered, as the strange sound fell, if involuntarily,
almost believingly from his mouth....
"But if he be dead, and gone," cried Gabriel, looking up suddenly
almost joyfully, "if I should learn precisely out of this manuscript,
that he is irrecoverably lost to me.... if then no other tie than
vengeance, continues to bind me to this life, _then_, _then_, ... my
purpose remains immoveable."
He sat down, and his eyes could not fly over the somewhat faded
characters with sufficient swiftness. He read on:--
"My brother was taken the best care of. Death had once ravished from
our benefactor Baruch Suess two hopeful boys in one week. These boys
must have been of about our age, and this circumstance heightened the
sympathy that his noble heart felt for us, especially for my sick
brother.--It happened just as Baruch Suess had prophesied. For three
weeks my brother lay in fever and delirium: on the twenty first day he
dropped for the first time into a profound and peaceful slumber. Suess
waited for the sick child's waking with almost fatherly compassion. At
length my poor brother to my inexpressible delight opened his beautiful
dark eyes, raised himself in bed, and looked about him in wonderment.
'Where are we? Mosche!' he asked in a feeble trembling voice. I threw
myself passionately on to his neck and my tears bedewed his pale sunken
cheeks.
"'Thou hast been ill, poor child,' said Suess, 'God has permitted thy
recovery, thou must be grateful to him.'
"I related with an overflowing feeling of gratitude, with how much
goodness our benefactor had behaved towards us, and as my brother
seized the noble man's hand in deep emotion, pressed it to his
quivering lips, and vainly struggled after words to express his
heartfelt thanks, a strange convulsive movement passed over the face of
Suess, and his eyes filled with tears.... 'You are dear good boys!' he
said, profoundly agitated.... The memory of his two early lost sons may
have combined with the warm sympathy of his own great heart. He hurried
out of the room, that he might not depress the spirits of the
convalescent by his unwonted emotion. We remained alone. At this moment
we felt ourselves infinitely calmed, we did not stand any longer so
entirely alone, so entirely forsaken! Suess allowed the convalescent to
take fresh air in the garden attached to his house, and it was there,
that we became better acquainted with his daughters. They were probably
rather younger than ourselves. Both of them, but especially Miriam the
elder, had been endowed with the most excellent natural gifts. Their
extraordinary and, especially for maidens of their age, almost
unparalleled beauty most perfectly harmonised with a subtle,
comprehensive, deeply penetrating intellect, with a disposition that
seemed formed to be a shining example to youthful womanhood. The
friendly, confiding, almost sisterly behaviour of the girls which their
good father manifestly approved of, made a profound, inerasable
impression upon us.
"So long as my brother was not quite recovered, we dared not think of
accomplishing the aim of our journey, of visiting our mother's grave.
It cost me a severe struggle, not to hasten alone to the burial ground,
but it would have vexed my poor brother, and I loved him so fervently!
"At last he was strong enough.... we walked out to the burial ground.
Our father had given us a sufficient description of the stone that
covered our mother's grave; we found it easily, and the long desired
aim of our journey was reached. The frame of mind in which we found
ourselves I cannot paint to you, my dear children? The most reverential
fear, the most sorrowful emotion seized powerfully hold of our young
minds.... We prayed long and softly, and when at length we were forced
to tear ourselves away in order to return home, we flung ourselves with
loud sobs into each other's arms. 'We have no father, no mother, ...'
said my brother, deeply moved. 'I have only thee, thou hast only me!--I
will love thee for ever, for ever, I will never forsake thee, never!
Brother, love me too, as I love thee!...'
"I could not answer from excitement. I folded him impetuously to my
loud-beating heart, and pressed my hot lips to his pale forehead, on
which at that instant a bright streak of flame was burning. The firm
bond of brotherly love was to be knitted if possible still more
closely, the beautiful covenant was anew concluded, in a sacred hour,
in a spot that was infinitely holy to us children!
"'What will you do now?' asked Suess, when we returned, grave and
agitated, to his house. This question surprised us. Since our father's
death we had entertained no other thought, could not have grasped any
other thought than to pray at our mother's grave. It had so entirely
filled our young minds, had kept our spirits in such perpetual
excitement, that we had not even for a moment considered what was to
come after, that we now for the first time cast a scrutinising look
upon our future. We stood with downcast eyes for a while in silence
before Suess. My brother recovered himself first. 'What do we propose to
do?' he repeated.--'Before anything else to render thanks to you, dear
benefactor, for your inexpressible goodness, for the kindness, for the
fatherly affection that you have devoted to us poor forsaken orphans in
such abundant measure, to thank you for tending me a poor boy, and with
God's assistance healing me in a sore sickness--to thank you, ye dear
good girls for your compassion, for that ye were not proud towards the
poor stranger boys, that you weeped when I was sick and rejoiced, when
the good God let me recover,--for that you were kind to us as sisters,
you rich beautiful maidens to us poor, poor boys!' ... and next he
continued after a short pause during which he strove to overcome his
deep emotion, and swallowed with an effort his hot tears, next we shall
pursue our journey, go to some school, study God's word, and endeavour
to become worthy of our father Reb Jizchok Meduro, to become worthy of
our grandfather, who ended his life heroically upon the scaffold, in
remembrance of whom the fiery mark sparkles on our forehead in moments
of sanctification!'
"My brother ceased; he was glorious to look upon, his eyes flashed
beaming with soul, and the fiery mark of which he spoke, even then rose
splendidly and contrasted with the pale, still somewhat sickly, child's
face, with the pure forehead white as alabaster.--I gazed with a sad
fraternal pride on my twin-brother, who seemed to draw his words in
strange wise out of his breast. The two girls sobbed softly, and Baruch
Suess required some time to collect himself.
"'I will not let you go, you dear fine boys,' he cried, 'never, no
never God forbid that I should let you go out into the wide world,
forsaken, orphaned. Seeing that a fortunate dispensation caused you to
cross my threshold, you must now remain with me. I too had once two
beautiful good boys.... The Lord hath taken them from me. Will you
supply their place to me? Will you be my sons, will you be the brothers
of these girls?'
"This unlooked for offer took us by surprise. The blissful feeling that
we had suddenly, unexpectedly, found a new home struggled with an
innate proud reluctance to accept a benefit for which we could make no
return save our boundless gratitude.--We wavered for an instant and
knew not what reply to make; but when Miriam grasping our hands with
tearful eye and trembling voice implored us not to go away, to stay
with her father--it seemed to us as if no opposition could be thought
of; we stayed.
"Baruch Suess treated us ever with fatherly kindness, and we always
succeeded in preserving his favour. Our late father had already
initiated us in the study of God's word, and so it came to pass, that
in spite of our youth we had soon made rapid progress. In the house of
Suess we had now full leisure to indulge in our wonted occupations. All
our wants were cared for in the kindest manner, and we soon felt as
much at home as in the house of our parents--Baruch Suess was besides so
good as to let us be instructed in those sciences, of which our father
in the tenderest years of our boyhood had only been able to give us the
first indications. His exertions in our favour had the best
consequences. The examples of our forefathers continually hovered
before our souls, and urged us to the greatest industry, to the highest
sacrifices. We were soon proposed as a brilliant pattern to the Jewish
youth, not only in Cologne, but in the whole Rhine-country--our names
were every where mentioned with distinction, and Baruch Suess felt
himself thereby richly rewarded. We lived happily and contentedly, and
grew up.--I may now when all that is over say so--two splendid youths,
equally well developed in mind and body, while Miriam and Perl
blossomed into exquisitely lovely young women.