Lazaro the Jew was seated towards dusk that evening in a sort of
office partitioned off by an open railing from a great store filled
with a most motley collection of articles. Sofas, looking-glasses,
washing-stands--bales of goods in corded canvass--rows of old boots
purchased from officers' servants--window curtains lying on heaps
of carpeting and matting--bedsteads of wood and iron--crockery
and glass--were all piled indiscriminately. Similar articles had
also overflowed along the passage down the wooden steps leading
to the square stone court below, which was lumbered with barrels,
packing-cases, and pieces of old iron. This court was entered
from the street, and an arched door on one side of it, barred and
padlocked, opened on a large warehouse, which nobody except the Jew
had set foot in for many months.
The Jew himself was a spare, rather small man, with a thin eager
face, small sharp features, and a scanty beard. Being by descent
a Barbary Jew, he wore the costume peculiar to that branch of his
race--a black skull-cap; a long-skirted, collarless, cloth coat,
buttoned close, the waist fastened with a belt; loose light-coloured
trousers and yellow slippers--altogether he looked somewhat like an
overgrown scholar of Christ's Hospital. He was busied in turning
over old parchment-covered ledgers, when an officer entered.
Von Dessel was a captain in Hardenberg's regiment. He was a square,
strong-built man, about forty, with very light hair, as was apparent
since the governor's order had forbidden the use of powder to the
troops, in consequence of the scarcity of flour. His thick, white,
overhanging eyebrows, close lips, and projecting under jaw gave
sternness to his countenance.
"Good afternoon, captain," said the Jew; "what I do for you to-day,
sare?"
"Do for me! By Gott, you have done for me already, with your cursed
Hebrew tricks," said the captain. The German and the Jew met on a
neutral ground of broken English.
"I always treat every gentleman fair, sare," said the Jew. "I tell
you, captain, I lose by that last bill of yours."
"_Der teufel!_ who gains, then?" said Von Dessel, "for you cut me
off thirty per cent."
The Jew shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't make it so, sare; the siege makes it so. When the port is
open, you shall have more better exchange."
"Well, money must be had," said the German. "What will you give now
for my bill for twenty pounds?"
The Jew consulted a book of figures--then made some calculations on
paper--then appeared to consider intently.
"Curse you, speak!" said the choleric captain. "You have made up
your mind about how much roguery long ago."
"Captain, sare, I give you feefty dallars," said the Jew.
The captain burst forth with a volley of German execrations.
"Captain," said the Jew presently, "I like to please a gentleman if
I can. I give you one box of cigars besides--real Cubas--one hundred
and feefty in a box."
The captain at this broke forth again, but checked himself presently
on the entrance of the Jew's daughter, who now returned from the
Major's. She advanced quietly into the room, made a little bow to
the captain, took off and laid aside her shawl, and, taking up some
work, sat down and began to sew.
Von Dessel resumed his expostulation in a milder tone. The Jew,
however, knew the money was necessary to him, and only yielded
so far as to increase his box of cigars to two hundred; and the
captain, finding he could get no better terms from him, was forced
to agree. While the Jew was drawing out the bills, the German gazed
attentively at Esther, with a good deal of admiration expressed in
his countenance.
"I can't take the money now," said he, after signing the bills. "I
am going on duty. Bring it to me to-morrow morning, at nine o'clock."
"I'm afraid I can't, sare," said Lazaro; "too moch business.
Couldn't you send for it, captain?"
"Not possible," said the German; "but you must surely have somebody
that might bring it--some trustworthy person you know." And his eye
rested on Esther.
"There's my dater, sare," said the Jew--"I shall send her, if that
will do."
"Good," said the captain, "do not forget," and quitted the room
forthwith.
He was scarcely gone when a pair with whom the reader is already
slightly acquainted, Mr and Mrs Bags, presented themselves. The
effects of their morning conviviality had in a great measure
disappeared.
"Your servant, sir," said Bags. The Jew nodded.
"We've got a few articles to dispose of," pursued Mr Bags, looking
round the room cautiously. "They was left us," he added in a low
tone, "by a _diseased_ friend."
"Ah!" said the Jew, "never mind where you got 'em. Be quick--show
them."
Mrs Bags produced from under her cloak, first a tin teakettle, then
a brass saucepan; and Mr Bags, unbuttoning his coat, laid on the
table three knives and a silver fork. Esther, passing near the table
at the time, glanced accidentally at the fork, and recognised the
Flinders crest--a talbot, or old English bloodhound.
"Father," said she hastily, in Spanish, "don't have anything to do
with that--it must be stolen." But the Jew turned so sharply on her,
telling her to mind her work, that she retreated.
The Jew took up the tea-kettle, and examined the bottom to see that
it was sound--did the same with the saucepan--looked at the knives
narrowly, and still closer at the fork--then ranged them before him
on the table.
"For dis," said he, laying his hand on the tea-kettle, "we will say
one pound of rice; for dis (the saucepan) two pounds of corned beef;
for de knives, a bottle of rum; and for de fork, seex ounces of the
best tea."
"Curse your tea!" said Mr Bags.
"Yes!" said Mrs Bags, who had with difficulty restrained herself
during the process of valuation, "we doesn't want no tea. And the
things is worth a much more than what you say: the saucepan's as
good as new, and the fork's silver--"
"Plated," said the Jew, weighing it across his finger.
"A many years," said Mrs Bags, "have I lived in gentlemen's
families, and well do I know plate from silver. I've lived with Mrs
Milson of Pidding Hill, where everything was silver, and nothing
plated, even to the handles of the doors; and a dear good lady she
was to me; many's the gown, she giv me. And I've lived with--"
Here the Jew unceremoniously interrupted the train of her
recollections by pushing the things from before him. "Take what I
offer, or else take your things away," said he, shortly.
Mr and Mrs Bags grumbled considerably. The tea they positively
refused at any price: Mr Bags didn't like it, and Mrs Bags said it
disagreed with her. So the Jew agreed to give them instead another
bottle of rum, a pound of onions, and two pounds of beef; and with
these terms they at length closed, and departed with the results of
their barter.
During the altercation, a soldier of another regiment had entered,
and stood silently awaiting his turn to be attended to. He was a
gaunt man, with want written legibly in the hollows of his face
and the dismal eagerness of his eye. He now came forward, and with
trembling hands unfolded an old gown, and handed it to the Jew.
"'Tis no good to me," said the latter, giving it back, after holding
it against the light; "nothing but holes."
"But my wife has no other," said the man: "'tis her last stitch of
clothes, except her petticoat and a blanket. I've brought everything
else to you."
The Jew shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands, in token
that he could not help it.
"I swear 'tis her last!" reiterated the man, as if he really fancied
this fact must give the garment as much value in the Jew's eyes as
in his own.
"I tell you I won't have it!" said the Jew, testily.
"Give me only a loaf for it, or but one pound of potatoes," said the
soldier: "'tis more than my wife and four children have had among
them for two days. Half-rations for one, among six of us, is too
hard to live."
"A pound of potatoes," said the Jew, "is worth four reals and
a-half--eighteenpence; your wife's gown is worth--nothing!"
"Then take this," said the man, beginning frantically to pull off
his uniform coat; "anything is better than starving."
The Jew laughed. "What!" said he, "you think I don't know better
than to buy a soldier's necessaries, eh? Ah, ah! no such a fool, I
think, my friend. What your captain say?--eh?"
The man struck his hand violently on the table. "Then give me--or
lend me," said he, "some food, much or little, and I'll work for you
every hour I'm off duty till you're satisfied. I will, Mr Lazaro, so
help me God!"
"I got plenty of men to work for me," said Lazaro; "don't want any
more. Come again, when you've got something to sell, my friend."
The man rolled up the gown without speaking, then lifted it over his
head, and dashed it into the furthest corner of the store. He was
hurrying from the place, when, as if unwilling to throw away his
last chance, he turned back, gathered it up, and, thrusting it under
his arm, quitted the store with lingering steps, as if he even yet
hoped to be called back. No such summons reached him, however; but,
immediately after he was gone, Esther rose and stole softly down the
stairs. She overtook him at the street-door opening from the court
before mentioned, and laid her hand on his arm. The man turned and
glared on her. "What!--he'll buy it, will he?" said he.
"Hush!" said Esther--"keep it for your poor wife. Look; I have no
money, but take these," and she placed in his hand two earrings
hastily detached from her ears.
The man stood looking at her for a space, as if stupified, without
closing his hand on the trinkets that lay on the palm; then,
suddenly rousing himself, he swore, with tears in his eyes, that
for this service he would do for her anything on earth she should
require from him; but she only begged him to go away at once, and
say nothing, lest her father should overhear the transaction, who
would certainly be angry with her for it.
Bags and his wife had stopt in a corner of the court, to pack
up their property in a commodious form for conveyance, and had
witnessed this scene in silence. As soon as the soldier had, in
compliance with Esther's entreaties, disappeared, Bags came forward.
"And your father would be angry, would he, my dear?" said he.
"Oh, very--oh, so angry! Please don't stop me," she said, trying to
pass him.
"And what'll ye give me not to tell him, now?" asked Mr Bags.
"Ain't ye got nothing for me?"
"No--oh, no--indeed, nothing. Do let me pass."
"Yes, you have; you've got this, I think," said Bags, snatching at
a silver-mounted comb glistening in her hair, which, thus loosened,
all fell down on her shoulders as she darted past him. "And now,"
said Mr Bags, inspecting his prize, "I think me and that 'ere
cheating Jew is quits for the silver fork. I'll allow it's plated
now."