THE TWO OATHS.
"Already, beloved? Think that for three long weeks I have not seen you,
Gunther! It is so early: no one misses me in the house, for my father
returns from his bank at nine only. Who knows when we shall meet again?"
"To-morrow, my Rachel, if you will permit me to return, and every
morning at this hour, I shall be here behind the grove, waiting for my
angel to unlock the gates of Paradise, and admit me to the heaven of her
presence."
"I will surely come! Nor storm nor rain shall deter me. Here, in this
pavilion, we are secure from curious eyes. God alone, who blesses our
love, shall see into our hearts!"
"Oh, Rachel, how I honor and love your energetic soul! When I am with
you, I fear nothing. But away from the influence of those angelic eyes,
I tremble and grow faint."
"What do you fear, Gunther?"
"The pride of riches, Rachel. Your father would laugh me to scorn were
he to hear that his peerless daughter is loved by a man without rank or
fortune."
"But whose heart has a patent of nobility from God!" exclaimed Rachel,
with enthusiasm. "And besides, Gunther, are you not a confidential
friend of the emperor?"
"Yes," said Gunther, bitterly. "The emperor calls me 'friend,' and in
'grateful acknowledgment of my services,' he has raised my salary to
three thousand florins. But what is that to your father, who pays twice
the amount to his book-keeper! Why are you the daughter of a man whose
wealth reflects discredit upon my love!"
"No one who looks into your noble face will suspect the purity of your
love, dear Gunther. But, alas, my lover! there is an obstacle greater
than wealth, to part us--the obstacle of your cruel faith, which does
not permit the Christian to wed with the Jew."
"If you were poor, my Rachel, I would try to win you over from the
Jewish God of vengeance to the merciful God of the Christian. Would I
could bring such an offering to Jesus as that of your pure young heart!"
"My father would die were I to renounce my faith," said Rachel, suddenly
growing sad. "But before he died, he would curse me."
"How calmly you speak, and yet your words are the death-warrant of my
hopes!" exclaimed Gunther, despairingly.
"I speak calmly, because I have long since resolved never to be the wife
of another man," replied Rachel. "If I must choose between father and
lover, I follow you. If my father drives me from his home, then,
Gunther, I will come and seek shelter upon your faithful heart."
"And you shall find it there, my own one!--I dare not call you, beloved,
but oh! I await with longing the hour of your coming--the hour when, of
your own free will, your little hand shall be laid in mine, to journey
with me from earth to heaven! Adieu, sweetest. I go, but my soul remains
behind."
"And mine goes with you," replied Rachel. He clasped her in his arms and
over and over again imprinted his passionate kisses upon her willing
lips.
"To-morrow," whispered she. "Here is the key of the gate. I shall be in
the pavilion."
Again he turned to kiss her, and so they parted. Rachel watched his
tall, graceful figure until it was hidden by the trees, then she clasped
her hands in prayer:
"O God, bless and protect our love! Shelter us from evil, but if it must
come, grant me strength to bear it!"
Slowly and thoughtfully she returned to the house. Her heart was so
filled with thoughts of her lover, that she did not see the stirring of
the blind, through which her father's dark, angry eyes had witnessed
their meeting. It was not until she had entered her room that she
awakened from her dream of bliss. Its splendor recalled her senses, and
with a sob she exclaimed:
"Why am I not a beggar, or a poor Christian child? Any thing--any thing
that would make me free to be his wife!--"
She ceased, for she heard her father's voice. Yes, it was indeed he! How
came he to be at home so soon? His hand was upon the door, and now he
spoke to her.
"Are you up, my daughter? Can I come in?"
Rachel hastened to open the door, and her father entered the room with a
bright smile.
"So soon dressed, Rachel! I was afraid that I might have disturbed your
slumbers," said he, drawing her to him, and kissing her. "Not only
dressed, but dressed so charmingly, that one would suppose the sun were
your lover, and had already visited you here. Or, perhaps you expect
some of your adoring counts this morning--hey!"
"No, father, I expect no one."
"So much the better, for I have glorious news for you. Do you remember
what I promised when you consented to let me punish Count Podstadsky
after my own fashion?"
"No, dear father, I do not remember ever to have been bribed to obey
your commands."
"Then, I will tell you my news, my glorious news. I have become a
freiherr."
"You were always a free man, my father; your millions have long ago made
you a freiherr."
"Bravely spoken, my Jewess," cried Eskeles Flies. "I will reward you by
telling you what I have bought for you. A carriage-load of illuminated
manuscripts decorated with exquisite miniatures, that you may enrich
your library with Christian Bibles and papal bulls of every size and
form."
"My dear father, how I thank you for these treasures!"
"Treasures, indeed! They are part of the library of a convent. The
emperor has destroyed them as the Vandals once did the treasures of the
Goths. I bought them from one of our own people. And that is not all. I
have a communion-service and an ostensorium for you, whose sculptures
are worthy of Benvenuto Cellini. I purchased these also from a Jew, who
bought them at one of the great church auctions. Ha, ha! He was going to
melt them up--the vessels that Christian priests had blessed and held
sacred!"
"That was no disgrace for him, father; but it is far different with the
emperor, who has desecrated the things which are esteemed holy in his
own curch. The emperor is not likely to win the affections of his people
by acts like these."
"Pshaw! He wanted gold, and cared very little whence it came," cried
Eskeles Flies, with a contemptuous shrug. "His munificent mother having
emptied the imperial treasury, the prudent son had to replenish it.
True, his method of creating a fund is not the discreetest he could have
chosen; for while teaching his people new modes of financiering, he has
forgotten that he is also teaching them to pilfer their own gods. What
an outcry would be raised in Christendom, if the Jew should plunder his
own synagogue. But I tell you, Rachel, that when the lust of riches
takes possession of a Christian's heart, it maddens his brain. Not so
with the Jew. Were he starving, he would never sell the holy of holies.
But the Jew never starves--not he! He lays ducat upon ducat until the
glistening heap dazzles the Christian's eyes, and he comes to barter his
wares for it. So is it with me. My gold has bought for me the
merchandise of nobility."
"Are you really in earnest, father? Have you thought it necessary to add
to the dignity of your Jewish birthright the bawble of a baron's title?"
"Why not, Rachel? The honor is salable, and it gives one consideration
with the Christian. I have bought the title, and the escutcheon, as I
buy a set of jewels for my daughter. Both are intended to dazzle our
enemies, and to excite their envy."
"But how came it to pass?" asked Rachel. "How came you to venture such
an unheard-of demand? A Jewish baron is an anomaly which the world has
never seen."
"For that very reason I demanded it. I had rendered extraordinary
services to the emperor. He sent for me to repay me the millions I had
lent him without interest; and I took occasion there to speak of my
thriving manufactures and my great commercial schemes. 'Ah,' said he,
putting his hand affectionately upon my shoulder (for the emperor loves
a rich man), 'ah, if I had many such merchant-princes as you, the Black
Sea would soon be covered with Austrian ships.' Then he asked what he
could do in return for the favor I had done him."
"And you asked for a baron's title!"
"I did. The emperor opened his large eyes, and looked knowingly at me.
He had guessed my thoughts. 'So,' said he, 'you would like to provoke
the aristocracy to little, would you? Well--I rather like the idea.
They are in need of a lesson to bring down their rebellious spirit, and
I shall give it to them. You are a more useful man to me than any of
them, and you shall be created a baron. I shall also elevate several
other distinguished Jews to the rank of nobles, and the aristocracy
shall understand that wherever I find merit I reward it.'"
"So then it was your worth, and not your gold, that earned for you the
distinction!" cried Rachel, gratified.
"Nonsense! 'Merit' means wealth, and I assure you that titles cost
enormous sums. I must pay for my patent ten thousand florins, and if I
should wish to be a count, I must pay twenty thousand. But enough of all
this. Suffice it that I shall prove to the nobles that my money is as
good as their genealogical trees, and now we shall have crowds of noble
adorers at the Baroness Rachel's feet. But be she baroness or countess,
she is forever a Jewess, and that parts her eternally from any but a
wooer of her own faith. Does it not, my Rachel, my loyal Israelitish
baroness?"
"Do you doubt me, my father?" asked Rachel in a faltering voice, while
she averted her face.
"No, my child, for if I did, I would curse you on the spot."
"Dear, dear father, do not speak such fearful words!" cried Rachel,
trembling with fright.
"You are right, child. I am childish to indulge the supposition of my
Hebrew maiden's treachery. She is pure before the Lord, loyal and true
to the faith of her fathers. But we must be armed against temptation,
and before we part for the day, we must both swear eternal fidelity to
our creed. These wily Christians may come with flattery and smiles, and
some one of them might steal my Rachel's heart. I swear, therefore, by
all that is sacred on earth or in heaven, never to abandon the Jewish
faith, and never to enter a Christian church. So help me God!"
Rachel gazed upon her father with blanched cheeks and distended eyes;
her muscles stiffened with horror, until she seemed to be turning to
stone.
"Did you hear my oath, Rachel?" said he.
She parted her lips, and they faltered an inaudible "Yes."
"Then," said he, gently, "repeat the oath, for we both must take it."
She raised her head with a quick, convulsive motion, and stammered,
"What--what is it, father?"
"Swear, as I have done, never to leave the faith of your fathers, never
to enter a Christian church."
Rachel made no reply. She stared again as though her senses were
forsaking her. She thought she would go mad. Her father's brow
contracted, and his mien grew fierce as he saw that his daughter's heart
had gone irrevocably from him. There was a long, dreadful pause.
"Are you at a loss for words?" asked the baron, and his voice was so
savage that Rachel started at the ominous sound.
"Repeat my words, then," continued he, seeing that she made no answer,
"or I--"
"Say, on, my father," replied the despairing girl.
Baron Eskeles Flies repeated his oath, and the pale victim spoke the
words after him. But at the end of the ordeal she reeled and fell to the
floor. Her father bent over, and raising her tenderly, folded her to his
heart. His voice was now as loving as ever.
"My precious child, we are truly united now. Nothing can part us, and
your happy father will surround you with such splendor as you have never
beheld before."
"Oh, my father!" exclaimed she, "what has splendor to do with
happiness?"
"Everything," replied her father, with a careless laugh. "Misfortune is
not near so ugly in a palace as in a cottage; and I do assure you that
the tears which are shed in a softly-cushioned carriage are not half so
bitter as those that fall from the eyes of the houseless beggar. Wealth
takes the edge from affliction, and lends new lustre to happiness. And
it shall shed its brightest halo over yours, my daughter. But I must
leave you, for I expect to earn a fortune before I return, when I hope
to see you bright and beautiful as ever."
He kissed her forehead and stroked her silky hair. "The Baroness Rachel
will be a Jewess forever! Oh, how can I thank you for that promise, my
adored child! What new pleasure can I procure for my idol to-day?"
"Love me, father," murmured Rachel.
"What need you ask for love, you who are to me like the breath of life?
To show how I anticipate your wishes, I have already prepared a
gratification for you. I have remarked how much pleasure you take in the
gardens and little pavilion yonder. Since my Rachel loves to take her
morning walk there, it shall be changed into a paradise. The brightest
fruits and flowers of the tropics shall bloom in its conservatories: and
instead of the little pavilion, I shall raise up a temple of purest
white marble, worthy of the nymph who haunts the spot. For a few weeks
your walks will be somewhat disturbed, darling, for the workmen will
begin to-morrow; but they aced not be much in your way, for while the
walls are down, I shall set a watch at every gate to make sure that no
one intrudes upon your privacy. In a few months you shall have a
miniature palace wherein to rest, when you are tired of roaming about
the grounds: Farewell, my child. I shall send the workmen
to-morrow--early to-morrow morning."
"He knows all," thought poor Rachel, as he closed the door. "The oath
was to part me from Gunther; the changes in the garden are to prevent us
from meeting."
For a long time she sat absorbed in grief. But finally she made her
resolve.
"I have sworn to love thee forever, my Gunther," said she. "When the
hour comes wherein my choice must be made, I go with thee!"