fateful moment, the whole impression of it has continued uneffaced in
my memory, and even at this day, when I am writing this history--though
almost twenty years have since elapsed,--the image of my poor brother
stands with perfect clearness before my soul, the image of my brother,
as J saw him then for the last time. He was tall, about the same height
as myself, his eyes flashed weirdly under black bushy eyebrows, on his
forehead, the fiery sign of our family glowed in deepest purple, his
dark beard set off the frightful corpselike pallor of his face, his
quivering lips were so violently convulsed that his large moustachios
kept continually trembling, his long abundant hair fell in tangled
masses over his shoulders."
Gabriel stopped again. From the depths of his soul confused memories
all suddenly emerged, that ever became clearer and clearer. That form,
which had once pressed its burning lips on the face of the frightened
child, stepped life-like before him--a half faded reminiscence of a
beggar, who had once followed him in Aix-la-Chapelle from the church
door to his house, again gathered life and strength. Strange to say, it
now for the first time, after a long series of years had weakened and
effaced the impression of these forms, seemed to him, that they
resembled each other--that both, Gabriel thought that he could not be
mistaken--corresponded with the description of his father. In vain he
sought to realise another embodiment of this picture, which he imagined
that he had seen only a short time back. But human memory possesses
this strange peculiarity, that it is just the impressions of the
remotest past, and especially youthful impressions, that survive with
greater vividness and clearness, than those, we have received later;
and, as the best shot in the heat of battle often misses the nearest
aim, in the same way did Gabriel, usually so strong-minded, in his
almost mad excitement vainly strive to conjure up this recollection. He
hoped perhaps to obtain from what followed more particular discoveries
about his father and read on:--
"I was determined to preserve silence, and left it to my brother to
break the profound stillness, that could not be less painful to him
than to me.... My brother was silent for a long time; his breast
laboured fearfully, he breathed heavily, his face too was
extraordinarily convulsed as I had never seen it before. The veins on
his forehead swelled, as if they would burst, his underlip dropped
loosely down, foam gathered on his mouth before he had spoken a
word.--I perceived, that he was seeking a word, a thought, wherewith to
crush, to annihilate me. I was afraid of him, but nevertheless gazed at
him fixedly and steadily. At last after a hard struggle some words
escaped from his lips, but his voice sounded hollow and dead: 'What
seekest thou here in the dead of night? Why dost thou act as a spy upon
me? Art thou my keeper? What dost thou want of me?'
"I had not expected such a stubborn unbending defiance. I stood at
first as if turned to stone, but at the next moment my hot Spanish
blood immediately boiled over; with a wild passionate excitement, such
as one only feels at such a moment, under such circumstances, I
answered my brother.
"'Dost thou ask, what I want of thee? Can you dare ask? Can you look me
in the face as if you were free and innocent? Do you not sink into the
ground for shame? Look into your own breast! Look! your very face bears
signs of your wicked wicked deed.... you ask what I want of you? I
would save you, tear you from the strong arm of sin, but lo! it holds
thee fast in brazen chains!--I stopped, my words seemed ineffectual. My
brother's features bore an expression of the wildest fury, he gnashed
his teeth, but made no answer.
"'Brother!' I began again, after a short painful pause, 'Brother! hast
thou then forgotten everything, everything? Hast thou no more memory
for the past, no regard for the future?... Oh, gaze not at me so
stonily, as if thou didst not understand me.... Brother, by that
infinite love which I have felt for thee, by the memory of our deceased
father, by the recollection of our early lost mother upon my knees I
implore thee,--think of it, _only think of it_, what a transgression
thou hast committed!... Yes! gaze at me as you will, with eyes
sparkling with rage, gnash your teeth, clench your fist, I do not
tremble, yes! thou hast fearfully sinned, yes, yes! dost hear?'
"I was so immeasurably confounded by my brother's obstinate unexpected
resistance, that I could say no more. I grasped at the bible which was
lying on the table, opened at the ten commandments and pointed silently
at the seventh.
"'Thou shalt not commit adultery!' I recommenced after a deep pause,
during which we could hear our hearts beating.... 'Thou shalt not lust
after thy neighbour's wife.... Dost thou see, thus it is written, thus
was it declared to listening mankind on flaming Sinai!... Well then,
that word of God, that word of God, which was a pillar of fire unto thy
people illuminating them in the darkness of night, and an ever
refreshing fountain in the heat of the day, that word of God, for which
thy grandfather endured a death by fire, that word of God whose
everlasting truth, thy father, I, every pious Jew, would have sealed
with his heart's blood, that same word of God thou hast despised, cast
from thee, trampled under foot!... Art thou not acquainted with the
sentence of our wisemen. All shall be inheritors of the kingdom to
come, all save three, the adulterer, the....'
"I could say no more, a fearful change came over my brother. His
features, even before marred and disfigured, now took an expression so
frightful, that they scarcely seemed to belong to an human being, all
the blood in his face seemed to have gathered into the dark-red borders
about his eyes, these protruded in an unnatural size far out of their
sockets, his mouth stood wide open, and disclosed his beautiful white
teeth--he resembled at that moment a wild blood-thirsty animal.
"'Thou hast robbed me of this world, wilt thou rob me of the next too?'
he yelled, after a long pause with a loud howl and threw himself
furiously upon me. I perceived to my unutterable grief, that my well
meant but bitter word, had penetrated the inmost recesses of his soul,
that the consciousness of his guilt had awaked in him with overwhelming
force, that it had suddenly conjured up the darkness of madness over
his once so clear and luminous mind.... In vain was now my friendly
address, he attacked me with the wild fury of delirium. 'Brother! let
go, let go, force me not to exert my strength?' I cried, 'we are still
brothers, Twin-brothers, I am still thy Mosche!...' But my brother
heeded me not, he seized me in his nervous grasp by the neck. My life
was in imminent danger. I did not much value life on my own account;
but I desired to preserve thy father for thee, dear Schoendel, thou who
haddest none other in the wide world but me, and the thought of thee
gave me a giant's strength! I had at first vainly more than once
endeavoured to force away my brother, whose hand compressed my throat
violently, but could not succeed in doing so.... My breathing became
difficult, the blood rushed to my head, lights danced before my eyes. I
was giddy, I felt that some decided course must be taken, that I must
disengage myself from my terrible opponent. I collected all my
strength, and forced him with the whole weight of my body to the
ground. 'Peace, Mosche, Peace!' said my brother at last, grinding his
teeth, after a fruitless struggle to break from my arms.... let me go,
I will be quiet!'
"I trusted his promise, but at the next moment he sprung upon me with
the fury and agility of a tiger, fastened his sharp teeth upon my naked
breast, and made most desperate efforts to strangle me. I screamed
aloud for excess of pain, and seized him, in obedience to a dim
instinct of self-preservation, by the throat.... a violent wrench of my
sinewy wrist--and my brother with a hollow muttering and distorted
visage sunk lifeless down! I stood for an instant in despair,
motionless, then threw myself, mad with grief, upon the ground and
endeavoured to recall him to life. My exertions were ineffectual!
"I recovered my presence of mind with astonishing rapidity, and it was
again the thought of thee, my dear daughter! which drew me out of the
wild storm of despair.... I opened the window, and cried out aloud to
the star-spangled heaven: '_Lord of the world: Thou hast seen it, Thy
paternal eye was watching_.... _I am not guilty of his death, I am no
Cain, my hand did not shed this blood!_'"
Gabriel, exhausted, almost unconscious, ceased reading, and threw the
fateful writing far away from him.... The superhuman strength, with
which he had hitherto attentively and greedily devoured the faded
characters, gave way. The hope of obtaining information about his
father, of searching him out, of being able to fold him to his beating,
bursting heart, had pervaded him with the wildest, most blissful
rapture--and now, now all these hopes were scattered, annihilated; the
very name of his father, which, as if intentionally, was not once
mentioned in the manuscript, remained unknown to him.--_The more
beautiful nobler aim of his life continued to be unattainable by him_.
What mattered to him the farther contents of the manuscript? Of what
importance to him was it to learn, how Rabbi Mosche in that same night
had taken flight with his daughter, to escape the avenging hands of
human justice? Of what importance was it to him to learn, how Reb
Carpel Sachs had received the old friend of his youth with warm
affection? Of what importance was it to him to learn, how Reb Mosche,
as attendant in the Old-Synagogue had led a peaceful, contemplative
life, how he embraced the firm resolution, to give the hand of his
daughter to a man who like himself, like his deceased father, would
accept the modest office of attendant in the Old-Synagogue, where far
from the busy tumult of the world he could peacefully live for his
faith, for his duties: calm and isolated, like his father, like
himself, might quietly close a storm tossed life.... What did all this
and more signify to Gabriel? Had he not learnt that his father was
dead, lost to him for ever--did he not know, that the hot unstilled
longing of his soul must remain for ever and ever ungratified, were not
the thousand threads, with which his heart hung to the sweetest hope of
his life, suddenly painfully snapped!... Gabriel read no further. He
sat for a while motionless in his chair. Language has no power to
express the tempest of emotion, that whirled through his breast, and it
needs the boldest flight of imagination, to picture it even in faint
colour to oneself.
"_That hope then is vanished!_" he said at last after long silence,
pressing his hand convulsively on his heart, "that hope is vanished!...
_there remains to me then but one, the only aim of my life. Vengeance_
... Mannsfield is still at Pilsen, Blume's destiny is yet in my
hands!... I thank thee, chance, thou hast wonderfully led me, thou hast
solved the torturing doubt in the most critical moment.... _vengeance
is all that is left to me--my resolution continues immoveable!_"
The strokes of the Rathhaus clock proclaimed, that it wanted but two
hours to midnight. About this time the gates of the Jews-town were
shut. Gabriel got up hastily, armed and enveloped himself in his cloak,
then passed his hand slowly over his lofty forehead white as marble, as
though violently to compress every new risen thought, and stepped to
the door. On the threshold he paused once more plunged in the
overflowing tide of thought, and cast a glance over the room that he
was leaving for ever. It seemed, as if he could not after all tear
himself away so easily from the dwelling, in which his grandfather had
ended a life fruitful in stirring incidents, where his father had
passed the lovely period of innocent youth.--All at once he manned
himself, and hastened with flying steps to the Jews-town.--In the short
distance there he met a man, with his cloak drawn close over his face;
it was Michoel Glogau; but both were too busied with their own
thoughts, and neither remarked the other.
Gabriel arrived just in time; immediately after his entrance the gates
of the Jews' quarter were closed.
VI.
The winter of the year 1620 had set in betimes, it was a raw cold
night. The sky was hidden by a grey veil of clouds, dissipated at one
moment by the breath of the icy north wind, at another as rapidly
re-condensed. The roofs were covered with deep snow, the ground was
frozen hard and crunched under footsteps. It had already become quiet,
the numerous vendors, who cheapened their wares in open street till a
late hour, and whose candles and small lamps gave a singularly friendly
aspect to the Jews-town, had disappeared, the streets were almost
empty, and only here and there a solitary passenger close wrapped in
his cloak was seen hastening home, or to the lecture-room.
Gabriel stepped slowly, through the street, stopping almost every
minute. He had experienced in his passion-tossed life much mental
anguish. Since the day, when he had stood in despair at his mother's
dying bed, since the day when Blume had contumeliously rejected his
warm earnest and chaste young love, his whole life had been full of
pain and torment--and yet it appeared to him, as if he had never been
so unhappy, never so unutterably wretched, as now. His future
confronted him more fearful and horrible than ever. The fortune of war,
which had hitherto fastened itself to his, to his friend Mannsfield's
banners, seemed to have vanished with Frederick's overthrow on this
day.... The audacious confidence with which he had made himself
irresponsible for his abjuration of everything which he had formerly
considered dear and sacred had been dissipated by Michoel's ardent
words, which had struck him with the full overpowering force of truth
at the most critical hour.... His only hope, to discover his father, to
press him to his heart, to reconcile himself to him, to his destiny,
perhaps to God.... the audacious hope, which had often raised him from
the bottomless pit of despair; this one, sweet hope, which had ever,
even when he dared not allow it to himself, glimmered in his soul--was
dissipated, was annihilated!
In truth it was the crushing intelligence of his father's early death,
which now bowed him down under a burden of infinite sorrow, and almost
effaced every earlier impression.... His father had never rejected him,
as he had so often in moments of wild excitement feared.... His father
had perhaps departed out of this life, without any presentiment that
his child would one day be dispairingly searching a trace of his
path.... And this father he had never known, and should never, never
behold, this father whom he had therefore only so madly hated, because
he would have so gladly loved him with the whole gigantic power of his
soul!
Gabriel stood pensively in the middle of the street. With the strange
bitter grief that, self-tormenting, is wont to tear open the most
painful wounds of the heart, he endeavoured once more to bring his
father's features which his uncle had so vividly described, before his
inner eye; but he strove in vain, confused images alone rose up in his
soul, pale men with purple blazing marks on their forehead: and all
these dim fancies took shape and vanished with the swiftness of
thought: all resembled one another--and yet not one of them was the
real genuine image.... And as a man is sometimes unable to remember a
word that he desires to utter, and yet it is so infinitely near him,
that he thinks, he has but to move the tongue, in order to give voice
to it, thus Gabriel peered after this image, it seemed so near, it
almost hovered over him--and yet he could not realise it.
"That hope is vanished," he said at length in low tones, passing his
hand over his forehead--"fix your looks on something else.... The past
is unchangeable--the dead are dead.... The grave restores not to the
world, the dead never come to life.... _Thy father is dead, he is
irrecoverably lost_.... but my vengeance liveth within me, within my
breast with a wild hell-fire.... forget the dead, and remember
vengeance!"
Gabriel once more assayed, with that admirable suppleness of character
that had enabled him to oppose an almost incredible resistance to the
bitter blows which had struck him, to withdraw himself from the
destructive influence of this vortex of thoughts, to divert his mind
from it.... again he sought, as he was often wont to do in moments of
highest excitement, some object exterior to himself, that would fix his
attention were it but for a short time, and he accounted himself
fortunate, as he recognised in a person, who was walking rapidly by
him, the Frankfurt student Nochum.
"Good evening," he said, mastering his temper, and with difficulty
restraining the ill-will that he could not but feel in the bottom of
his heart towards Nochum: "Whither away?"
"I have been with the chief overseer Reb Gadel," answered Nochum, "I
had letters of recommendation to him and am in the habit of studying at
nights with his son: but they have just been informed, that the
Palatine has come over to the Altstadt, bringing the crown and regalia
with him, and has signified to the inhabitants of the Altstadt, that he
proposes to withdraw from the city at daybreak and leave the field to
his victorious antagonists--as you can well fancy, there could be no
more talk of study."
"Is this news to be depended upon?" asked Gabriel, after a long pause
of reflection.
"It came to the overseer from the most reliable source, and there can
be no doubt about it.... however I must ask you to keep the matter
secret till morning: it is still unknown to every one else in the
Jews-town, and may very well remain so till to-morrow."
Gabriel observed a thoughtful silence. "I am still master of Blume's
destiny," he thought, "she still believes that her husband is in my
power.... I must make haste.... if I lose the propitious moment for
revenge, it is perhaps irrecoverably, for ever lost!"
Nochum misinterpreted Gabriel's silence. He could in truth have no
suspicion of the gravity of the intelligence which he had imparted to
him, he could have no idea that he was standing by a man, the only hope
of whose life had been shortly before annihilated, who designed to take
instant vengeance with the full might of hate for the unutterable woe
of his whole tormented Past.
"You seem to take a warm interest in public affairs," began Nochum at
length, "and I am very glad of it, one finds it so seldom in a student;
but here in Prague, at this renowned high-school one meets students,
such as one seldom finds elsewhere.--Yesterday for the first time I
made the acquaintance of a student, Michoel Glogau; I am only sorry
that he is leaving Prague immediately.... I assure you, never has a
young man made so deep an impression upon me as he.... We happened to
be talking about a bastard, I laid down a proposition which, I
willingly allow, I retracted, when Reb Michoel proved to me that it was
wrong.... but what an argument he gave, so clear, so eager, so
convincing--but what am I telling you this for, I recollect that you
were present during the discussion, and must have heard it too. Michoel
found the true, correct, view of the case, did he not?"
Gabriel's heart beat high. His soul was pierced by a thousand arrows,
and the reawakened memory of Michoel's crushing words poured boiling
oil into all these open uncicatrized wounds.
"I too am sorry that I fell in with Michoel Glogau so late," said
Gabriel with profound emotion.... "but it was in sooth too late, too
late!"
Nochum looked enquiringly at Gabriel. The intense trouble that was
expressed by his features and words seemed to him incomprehensible.
Gabriel observed this, he was seized with a sudden terror as if he
feared that he had betrayed his most secret thoughts.... "Farewell," he
cried, after a short pause suddenly breaking off, and hurried as fast
as he could through the narrow irregular streets.--Nochum gazed after
him for a while in astonishment and then went quietly on his way.
Gabriel did not stop till he had reached Blume's house in the Hahnpass.
He looked up to the attic windows, one of them was open in spite of the
raw wintry cold, and he thought that he perceived in the obscurity the
outline of a woman's form.... His heart beat audibly, he laid his hand
on the door-latch, but still stood lost in thought.
"Thus then I stand at the goal," he began speaking to himself, at first
in low tones, then louder and louder.... "through a long life of torment
I have pined for the moment of revenge.... Now it is come, no power on
earth can now interpose between me and my revenge.... I will avenge
myself.... and then?... then solitary, forsaken, unwept and
unregretted--will die on the nearest battle-field.--It might have
been otherwise!... Had I encountered that Michoel, whom I now at the
end of my wide, wide wandering have found, had I encountered him on
that feast of atonement, had he then said those words, which have this
day so unsparingly rended my soul--had he then addressed me in such
accents--it might have been otherwise! Gabriel Suess, Gabriel Suess, the
poor, ill-used, rejected, down trodden,--Gabriel Suess, who has torn
himself from the blissful faith of his childhood, Gabriel Suess, who has
sought and never found forgetfulness of the past amid the roar of
cannon and the turmoil of battle.--Gabriel Suess _might have been a
support to the wavering, a teacher of his people, a lofty example of
humble resignation to the will of God_.... _His fate was in his own
hands. It was his own fault that he perished!_... That was what you
said, Michoel; but it was too late!... but no! no! I am not, I am not
guilty of it.... that is your invention, ye believers in God!... Naught
but a malicious, evil chance swayed me, and even at this critical
moment would embitter the sweet instant of revenge by a deceitful
image of what I might have been.... just as I am hastily setting
forth to accomplish my long-coveted revenge, it lets me meet Michoel
Glogau!--Oh! it is naught but malicious evil chance! at the moment,
when still irresolute I am for the last time imploring thee, whom men
call all-mighty, all-merciful,--in the deepest sorrow, that ever
crushed a poor human soul, to restore my father to me, a father! a
favour that is not refused to the humblest man on earth--at the moment,
when I am calling upon thee to restore my father to me, were it but for
the shortest interval of time that the human mind is capable of
conceiving--to permit me to die in his arms, were it at the penalty of
unutterable physical anguish.... _At that moment, I learn that he is
dead!_... Where is thy omnipotence? Where? Bow my stiff neck! shatter
my pride! conduct me to my father! and I, Gabriel Suess will return unto
thee--dost thou hear? to thee, to faith in thee.... I will repent, and
dying will glorify thy name!... but it will not be so--the Grave never
gives back its dead.... _I was only unexpressibly unfortunate.... and I
cry aloud: there is no_...."
Gabriel stopped short. A death-like stillness had reigned round about
over the then almost deserted Hahnpass, bounded, as it was, by the
spacious graveyard, but suddenly a voice issuing from the burial
ground, fell upon his ears, a voice which already once before had made
his blood run cold with horror, and which he had then accounted an
offspring of his heated over-excited imagination.... but this time it
sounded clearer; this time it could be no deception.
"My son! my son! Thou, poor, forsaken one, thou that wert born in sin,
where art thou? Where shall I seek thee? Oh! that my voice might echo
with the power of thunder, that it might reach from one end of the
earth to the other.... perchance my poor son would hear the voice of
his father and forgive him!..."
Thus it rung in Gabriel's ears. A hollow cry escaped from his breast,
he let fall the latch of the house-door which he had held nervously
clutched in his hand.--He looked around, a moderately high wall divided
him from the burial ground. Suddenly he perceived a small locked door
in the wall, and the intensity of his excitement gave a giant strength
to the man naturally powerful: at one blow the boards of the door fell
in with a crash, and Gabriel found himself in the cemetery.... His
flaming eyes flew over the wide snow-covered space. It was profoundly
dark, the sky was obscured by thick clouds, the crumbling grave-stones
made a strange contrast with the glittering snow-field; the old trees
with their frosted branches like hoary sentinels over this place of
rest, floated on the grey atmosphere of the background....