A PROCLAMATION OF WAR.
On Monday morning Aaron commenced business. In the shop window was a
display of miscellaneous articles ticketed at low prices, and Aaron
took his place behind his counter, ready to dispose of them, ready to
argue and bargain, and to advance money on any other articles on which
a temporary loan was required. He did not expect a rush of customers,
being aware that pawnbroking was a tree of very small beginnings, a
seed which needed time before it put forth flourishing branches. The
security was sure, the profits accumulative. He was confident of the
result. Human necessity, even human frailty, was on his side; all he
had to do was to be fair in his dealings.
In the course of the day he had a good many callers; some to make
inquiries, some to offer various articles for pledge. Of these latter
the majority were children, with whom he declined to negotiate. "Who
sent you?" "Mother." "Go home and tell her she must come herself." He
would only do business with grown-up people. Setting before himself a
straight and honest rule of life, he was not the man to wander from it
for the sake of a little profit. Of the other description of callers a
fair proportion entered the shop out of idle curiosity. He had
pleasant words for all, and gave change for sixpences and shillings
with as much courtesy as if each transaction was a gain to him; as,
indeed, it was, for no man or woman who entered with an unfavourable
opinion of him (influenced by certain rumours to his discredit which
had been circulated by Mr. Whimpole) departed without having their
minds disturbed by his urbanity and genial manners. "I don't see any
harm in him," was the general verdict from personal evidence; "he's as
nice a spoken man as I ever set eyes on." Many of his visitors went
away laughing at the humorous remarks he had made, which they passed
on from one to another. On the evening of this first day he expressed
his satisfaction at the business he had done.
"Our venture will turn out well," he said to Rachel. "The flag of
fortune is waving over us."
It was eight o'clock, and, although he scarcely expected further
custom, he kept the gas burning in the shop window.
"Light is an attraction," he observed. "It is better than an
advertisement in the papers."
The evening was fine. He and Rachel were sitting in the parlour,
with the intermediate door open. Aaron was smoking a handsome
silver-mounted pipe and making up his accounts, while his wife was
busy with her needle. Satan could never have put anything in the shape
of mischief in the way of these two pairs of industrious hands, for
they were never idle, except during the Sabbath and the fasts and
holydays, and then it was not idleness, but rest, Divinely ordained.
The silver-mounted pipe was one of Aaron's most precious possessions,
it being his beloved wife's gift to him on his last birthday. He would
not have sold it for ten times its weight in gold. Rachel often held a
light to it after it was filled, and Aaron, with an affectionate
smile, would kiss her white hand in acknowledgment of the service.
There are trifling memorials which are almost human in their
influence, and in the tender thoughts they inspire. At peace with the
world and with themselves, Aaron and his wife conversed happily as
they worked; but malignant influences were at work, of which they were
soon to feel the shock.
Aaron had put his account books in the safe, and was turning the key,
when the sound of loud voices outside his shop reached their ears. The
voices were those of children, male and female, who were exercising
their lungs in bass, treble, and falsetto. Only one word did they
utter.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
Rachel started up in alarm, her hand at her heart. Her face was white,
her limbs were trembling.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
Aaron put the key of the safe in his pocket, and laid down his pipe.
His countenance was not troubled, but his brows were puckered.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
"It is wicked! it is wicked!" cried Rachel, wringing her hands. "Oh,
how can they be so cruel!"
Aaron's countenance instantly cleared. He had to think, to act, for
her as well as for himself. With fond endearments he endeavoured to
soothe her; but her agitation was profound, and while these cries of
implied opprobrium continued she could not school herself to calmness.
Not for herself did she fear; it was against her dear, her honoured
husband that this wicked demonstration was made, and she dreaded that
he would be subjected to violence. Stories of past oppressions,
accounts she had read in the newspapers of Jew-baiting in other
countries, flashed into her mind. To her perturbed senses the voices
seemed to proceed from men and women; to Aaron's clearer senses they
were the voices of children, and he divined the source of the insult.
Rachel sobbed upon his breast, and clasped him close to protect him.
"Rachel, my love, my life!" he said, in a tone of tender firmness. "Be
calm, I entreat you. There is nothing to fear. Have you lost
confidence in your husband? Would you increase my troubles, and make
the task before me more difficult than it is? On my word as a man, on
my faith as a Jew, I will make friends of these foolish children, in
whose outcries there is no deep-seated venom--I declare it, none. They
do not know what they are doing. From my heart I pity them, the young
rascals, and I will wage a peaceful war with them--yes, my life, a
peaceful war--which will confound them and fill them with wonder. I
will make them respect me; I will enrich them with a memory which,
when they are men and women, will make them think of the past with
shame. I will make all my enemies respect me. If you will help me by
your silence and patience, I will turn their bitterness into
thistledown, which I can blow away with a breath. Take heart, my
beloved, dear life of my life! Trust to me, and in the course of a few
days you shall see a wonder. There, let me kiss your tears away. That
is my own Rachel, whose little finger is more precious to me than all
the world beside. Good, good, my own dear wife! Do you think it is a
tragedy that is being enacted by those youngsters? No, no; it is a
comedy. You shall see, you shall see!"
She was comforted by his words; she drew strength from his strength;
she looked at him in wonder, as he began to laugh even while he was
caressing her, and her wonder increased when she saw that his eyes
fairly shone with humour.
"Have no fear, my heart," he said; "have not the slightest fear. I am
going to meet them--not with javelin and spear, but with something
still more powerful, and with good temper for my shield."
"Aaron," she whispered, "are you sure there is no danger?"
"If I were not sure," he answered, merrily, "I would remain snug in
this room. I am not a man of war; I am a man of peace, and with
peaceful weapons will I scatter the enemy. For your dear sake I would
not expose myself to peril, for do I not know that if I were hurt your
pain would be greater than mine? It is my joy to know it. You will
remain quietly here?"
"I will, my dear husband. But you will not go into the street?"
"I shall go no farther than the street door. I shall not need to go
farther."
He stopped to fill his pipe, and to light it; and then, with loving
kisses and a smile on his lips, he left her.
When he made his appearance at the shop door there was a sudden hush,
and a sudden scuttling away of the twenty or thirty children who had
congregated to revile him. He remained stationary at the door, smoking
his pipe, and gazing benignantly at them.
Their fears of chastisement dispelled by his peaceful attitude, they
stopped, looked over their shoulders, and slowly and warily came back,
keeping, however, at a safe distance from him. They found their voices
again; again the reviling cries went forth.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
"Good children! good children!" said Aaron, in a clear, mellifluous
voice. Then he put his pipe to his mouth again, and continued to
smoke, smiling and nodding his head as if in approval.
"Jew! Jew! Jew!"
"Good little boys and girls," said Aaron. "Bravo! bravo! You deserve a
reward. Every labourer is worthy of his hire."
He drew from his pocket three or four pennies, which, with smiling
nods of his head, he threw among them.
Instantly came into play other passions--greed, avarice, the
determination not to be defrauded of their due. Falling upon the
money, they scrambled and fought for it. Aaron threw among them two or
three more pennies, and their ardour increased. They scratched, they
kicked, they tumbled over each other; blows were given and returned.
Those who had secured pennies scampered away with them, and, with loud
and vengeful cries, the penniless scampered after them. In a very
little while they had all disappeared. To the victors the spoils, it
is said; but in this instance it really appeared as if victory had
ranged itself on Aaron's side.
Shaking with internal laughter, he remained on his steps awhile,
puffing at his pipe; then he put up the shutters, locked the street
door, put out the shop lights, and rejoined his wife.
"My dear," he said, and his voice was so gay that her heart beat with
joy, "that is the end of the first act. They will not come back
to-night."