JOY AND SORROW.
Perhaps, however, to Rachel may chiefly be ascribed the general esteem
in which the Cohens were held by the townsfolk. Charitable, kind, and
gentle by nature, she was instinctively drawn to all poor people who
had fallen into misfortune. Here there was no question of Jew and
Christian. A human being was in trouble; that was sufficient for this
dear woman, whose heart bled at the sight of suffering. Upon her
sympathetic ears no tale of distress could fall without bearing fruit.
Now it was a basin of nourishing soup, now a mould of jelly, now part
of a chicken, cooked by herself, and paid for out of her housekeeping
money. She won friends everywhere, and her sweet face was like a ray
of sunshine in the homes of the poor. It was not at all uncommon to
hear that her timely assistance had been the means of restoring to
health those who had been stricken down. She walked through life as an
angel of mercy might have done, and spiritual flowers grew about her
feet.
Of all the friends who sounded her praises none were more enthusiastic
than little Prissy, who came now regularly to the house to do domestic
work.
Anxious to increase his trade, Aaron had stocked his shop with such
articles of wear and adornment which were most in request. He had not
the means to pay ready money for the stock, but through a friend in
Portsmouth, Mr. Moss, with whom the readers of this story have already
become acquainted, he obtained credit from wholesale dealers who would
have been chary to trust him without a sufficient recommendation.
Apart from the pleasures which his modest success in business afforded
him, there was a happiness in store for him to which he looked forward
with a sense of profound gratitude. Rachel was about to become a
mother. To this fond couple, who lived only for each other, there
could be no greater joy than this. They had lost their firstborn, and
God was sending another child to bless their days. They never closed
their eyes at night, they never rose in the morning, without offering
a prayer of thanks to the Most High for His goodness to them. They saw
no cloud gathering to darken their happiness.
It was an ordinary event, for which Aaron could hardly have been
prepared.
They had been eleven months in Gosport when one morning Aaron, rising
first and going down to his shop, found that burglars had been at
work. They had effected an entrance at the back of the house, and had
carried away the most valuable articles in the window. The loss, Aaron
calculated, would not be less than a hundred pounds.
It was, to him, a serious loss; he had commenced with a very small
capital, and his earnings during the year had left only a small margin
over his household and trade expenses. His business was growing, it is
true, but for the first six months he had barely paid his way; it was
to the future he looked to firmly establish himself, and now in one
night all his profits were swept away. More than this; if he were
called upon to pay his debts he would have but a few pounds left.
Rachel, whose health the last week or two had been delicate, her
confinement being so near, was in bed by his directions; he had
forbidden her to rise till ten o'clock. It was a matter to be thankful
for; he could keep the shock of the loss from her; in her condition
bad news might have a serious effect upon her.
He set everything in order, spoke no word of what had occurred to his
wife, re-arranged the shop window, and took down the shutters. In the
course of the day he told Rachel that he intended to close a couple of
hours earlier than usual; he had to go to Portsmouth upon business in
the evening, and should be absent probably till near midnight.
"You will not mind being alone, my love?" he said.
"Oh no," she answered, with a tender smile; "I have plenty to occupy
me."
She had been for some time busy with her needle preparing for her
unborn child.
"But you must go to bed at ten," said Aaron. "I shall lock the shop,
and take the key of the back door with me, so that I can let myself
in."
She promised to do as he bade her, and in the evening he left her to
transact his business. He had no fear that she would be intruded upon;
it was not likely that the house would be broken into two nights in
succession; besides, with the exception of some pledges of small value
which he kept in the safe, where they were secure from burglars, there
was little now to tempt thieves to repeat their knavish doings. So
with fond kisses he bade her goodnight.
They stood facing each other, looking into each other's eyes. Rachel's
eyes were of a tender grey, with a light so sweet in them that he
never looked into them unmoved. He kissed them now with a strange
yearning at his heart.
"I hope baby's eyes will be like yours, dear love," he said; "the soul
of sweetness and goodness shines in them."
She smiled happily, and pressed him fondly to her. Ah, if he had
known!
His first business was with the police. He went to the station, and
telling the inspector of his loss, said that he wished it to be kept
private, because of his fear that it might reach his wife's ears. The
inspector replied that it would be advisable under any circumstances.
Leaving in the officer's hands a list of the articles that had been
stolen, he proceeded to Portsmouth to consult his friend Mr. Moss.
That good-hearted gentleman was deeply concerned at the news.
"It is a serious thing, Cohen," he said.
"A very serious thing," replied Aaron, gravely; "but I shall overcome
it, Only I require time. I promised to pay some bills to-morrow, and
as I shall need a little stock to replace what I have lost, it will
cramp me to do so now."
He mentioned the names of the tradesmen to whom he had given the
promise, and asked Mr. Moss to call upon them in the morning and
explain the matter to them.
"They will not lose their money," he said; "it will not take me very
long to make everything right."
"I will see them," said Mr. Moss, "and I am sure they will give you
time. Aaron Cohen's name is a sufficient guarantee."
"I hope it will always be," replied Aaron. "It is very unfortunate
just now, because I have extra expenses coming on me. The nurse, the
doctor----"
"I know, I know. How is Mrs. Cohen?"
"Fairly well, I am glad to say. She knows nothing of what has
occurred."
"Of course not. How could you tell her while she is like that? When
Mrs. Moss is in the same way I am always singing and laughing and
saying cheerful things to her. Between you and me, we expect an
addition ourselves in about four months."
"Indeed! That will make----"
"Twelve," said Mr. Moss, rubbing his hands briskly together. "Increase
and multiply. It's our bounden duty; eh, Cohen?"
"Yes," said Aaron, rather absently. "And now I must go; it will be
late before I reach home, and for all Rachel's promises I expect she
will keep awake for me. Good-night, and thank you."
"Nothing to thank me for. Good-night, and good luck."
When Aaron returned to Gosport it was midnight. Winter was coming on,
and it was cold and dark. Buttoning his coat close up to his neck, he
hastened his steps.
He was not despondent. Misfortune had fallen upon him, but he had
confidence in himself; and, despite the practical common sense which
showed itself in all his actions, there was in his nature an
underlying current of spiritual belief in Divine assistance towards
the successful accomplishment of just and worthy endeavour. That it is
man's duty to do right, to work, to pray, to be considerate to his
neighbours, to make his home cheerful, to be as charitable as his
means will allow--this was his creed; and it was strengthened by his
conviction that God made Himself manifest even upon earth in matters
of right and wrong. He did not relegate the expiation of transgression
to the future; he did not believe that a man could wipe out the sins
of the past year by fasting, and praying, and beating his breast on
the Day of Atonement. Wrong-doing was not to be set aside and
forgotten until a convenient hour for repentance arrived. That was the
conduct of a man who tried to cheat his conscience, who deluded
himself with the hope that the Eternal sometimes slept. Daily, hourly,
a man must keep watch over himself and his actions. This had been his
rule of life; and it contributed to his happiness, and to the
happiness of those around him.
He was within a quarter of a mile of his residence when he was
conscious of an unseen disturbance in the air; and presently he saw a
distant glare in the sky, and the faint echoes of loud voices stole
upon his senses. Agitated as he had been by what had transpired during
this long unfortunate day, he could not at first be certain whether
these signs were real or imaginary; but he soon discovered that they
did not spring from his imagination. The glare in the sky became
plainly visible, the loud voices reached his cars. There was a fire in
the town, and he was proceeding towards it. Instantly his thoughts,
his fears, centred upon Rachel. He ran forward quickly, and found
himself struggling through an excited crowd. Flames shot upwards; the
air was filled with floating sparks of fire. Great God! It was his own
house that was being destroyed by the devouring element. He did not
heed that; the destruction of his worldly goods did not affect him.
"My wife!" he screamed. "Where is my wife?"
By main force they held him back, for he was rushing into the flames.
"Let me go!" he screamed. "Where is my wife?"
"It is all right, Mr. Cohen," a number of voices replied. "She is
saved!"
"Thank God, oh, thank God!" he cried. "Take me to her. Where is she?"
He cared not for the ruin that had overtaken him; like cool water to a
parched throat had come the joyful news.
"Take me to her. In the name of Heaven, tell me where she is!"
She was in a house, at a safe distance from the fire, and thither he
was led. Rachel was lying on a couch in her nightdress; sympathising
people were about her.
"Rachel, Rachel!" he cried, and fell upon his knees by her side.
She did not answer him; she was insensible.
"Do not agitate yourself," said a voice. It was that of a physician
who had been attending to her. "Be thankful that she lives."
"O Lord, I thank Thee!" murmured the stricken man. "My Rachel lives!"
What mattered all the rest? What mattered worldly ruin and
destruction? The beloved of his heart was spared to him.
"You are a sensible man, Mr. Cohen," said the physician, "and you must
be calm for her sake. In her condition there will be danger if she
witnesses your agitation when she recovers."
"I will be calm, sir," said Aaron, humbly. "She is all I have in the
world."
He made no inquiries as to the cause of the fire; he did not stir from
Rachel's side, but sat with his eyes fixed upon her pallid face. The
physician remained with them an hour, and then took his departure,
saying he would return early in the morning, and leaving instructions
to Aaron what to do.
At sunrise Rachel awoke. Passing one hand over her eyes, she held out
the other in a groping, uncertain way. Aaron took it in his, and held
it fondly; the pallor left her cheeks.
"It is you, my dear?" she murmured.
"Yes, it is I, my life!" he said, in a low and gentle tone.
"You are well--you are safe?"
"I am well; I am safe," he replied. "And you, Rachel, how do you
feel?"
"I have a slight headache. It will soon pass away. Oh, my dear
husband, how thankful I am! When did you return?"
"Not till you were taken from the house. Do not talk now. Rest, rest,
my beloved!"
The endearing words brought a glad smile to her lips.
"I will sleep presently, Aaron. Is the doctor here?"
"No, but he will come soon. Shall I go for him?"
"I can wait, dear; when he comes I should like to speak to him alone."
"You are hurt!" he said, alarmed. "Tell me!"
"I am not hurt, dear; it is only that my head aches a little. He will
give me something to relieve me. Have no fear for me, Aaron; I am in
no danger; indeed, indeed, I am not!"
"God be praised!"
She drew his head to her breast, and they lay in silence awhile,
fondly embracing.
"Let me tell you, dear, and then I will go to sleep again. I went to
bed at ten, as you bade me, and though I had it in my mind to keep
awake for you I could not do so. I do not know how long I slept, but I
awoke in confusion, and there was a strong glare in my eyes. I hardly
remember what followed. I heard voices calling to me--Prissy's voice
was the loudest, I think--and then I felt that strong arms were around
me, and I was being carried from the house. That is all, my dear, till
I heard your voice, here. Where am I?"
He informed her; and then, holding him close to her, she fell asleep
again. As the clock struck nine the physician entered the room, and
Aaron told him what had passed.
"I can spare half an hour," said the physician. "Go and see after your
affairs. I will not leave her till you return."
Kissing Rachel tenderly, and smoothing the hair from her forehead,
Aaron left the house, and went to his own. Before he departed he
learned from the kind neighbours, who had given Rachel shelter, that
they were not in a position to keep her and Aaron with them, and he
said that he would make arrangements to remove her in the course of
the day, if the doctor thought it would be safe to do so. His own
house, he found, was completely destroyed, but he heard of another at
no great distance, which was to be let furnished for a few weeks; and
this he took at once, and installed Prissy therein, to light fires and
get the rooms warm. The arrangement completed, he hastened back to
Rachel, between whom and the physician a long consultation had taken
place during his absence. At the conclusion of their conversation she
had asked him one question,--
"Shall I be so all my life, doctor?"
"I fear so," was his reply.
"My poor husband!" she murmured. "My poor, dear husband! Say nothing
to him, doctor, I implore you. Let him hear the truth from my lips."
He consented, not sorry to be spared a painful duty. "She is
surprisingly well," he said to Aaron, "and in a few days will be able
to get about a little, though you must not expect her to be quite
strong till her child is born."
The news was so much better than Aaron expected, that he drew a deep
breath of exquisite relief.
"Can she be removed to-day with safety?" he asked.
"I think so. She will be happier with you alone. Give me your new
address; I will call and see her there this evening."
At noon she was taken in a cab to her new abode and Aaron carried her
in, and laid her on the sofa before a bright fire. In the evening the
physician called according to his promise. "She is progressing
famously," he said to Aaron. "Get her to bed early, and it may be
advisable that she should keep there a few days. But I shall speak
more definitely about this later on. Mr. Cohen, you have my best
wishes. You are blessed with a noble wife." Tears shone in Aaron's
eyes. "Let me impress upon you," continued the doctor, "to be strong
as she is strong; but at present, with the birth of her child so near,
it is scarcely physical power that sustains her. She is supported by a
spiritual strength drawn from her love for you and her unborn babe."
With these words the physician left them together. Prissy was gone,
and Aaron and Rachel were alone.
They exchanged but few words. Rachel still occupied the couch before
the fire, and as she seemed to be dozing Aaron would not disturb her.
Thus an hour passed by, and then Rachel said,--
"The doctor advises me to go to bed early. Will you help me up, dear?"
She stood on her feet before him, and as his eyes rested on her face a
strange fear entered his heart.
"Come, my life!" he said.
"A moment, dear husband," she said. "I have something to tell you,
something that will grieve you. I do not know how it happened, nor
does the good doctor know. He has heard of only one such case before.
I am not in pain; I do not suffer. It is much to be grateful for, and
I am humbly, humbly grateful. It might have been so much worse!"
"Rachel, my beloved!" said Aaron, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Keep your arms about me, my honoured husband. Let me feel your dear
hands, your dear face. Kiss me, Aaron. May I tell you now?"
"Tell me now, my beloved."
"Look into my eyes, dear. I cannot look into yours. Dear husband, I am
blind!"