Part 99 (1/2)

”Yes,” she cried, and there was no answering tremor in her voice. ”Now thou knowest! I am not a good Jewish maiden. Levi and I are brother and sister. His touch profane me, forsooth!” She laughed bitterly.

”Thou wilt take this journey though I forbid thee?” he cried in acrid accents, still mingled with surprise.

”Yes; would I had taken the journey thou wouldst have forbidden ten years ago!”

”What journey? thou talkest madness.”

”I talk truth. Thou hast forgotten David Brandon; I have not. Ten years last Pa.s.sover I arranged to fly with him, to marry him, in defiance of the Law and thee.”

A new pallor overspread the Reb's countenance, already ashen. He trembled and almost fell backwards.

”But thou didst not?” he whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

”I did not, I know not why,” she said sullenly; ”else thou wouldst never have seen me again. It may be I respected thy religion, although thou didst not dream what was in my mind. But thy religion shall not keep me from this journey.”

The Reb had hidden his face in his hands. His lips were moving; was it in grateful prayer, in self-reproach, or merely in nervous trembling?

Hannah never knew. Presently the Reb's arms dropped, great tears rolled down towards the white beard. When he spoke, his tones were hushed as with awe.

”This man--tell me, my daughter, thou lovest him still?”

She shrugged her shoulders with a gesture of reckless despair.

”What does it matter? My life is but a shadow.”

The Reb took her to his breast, though she remained stony to his touch, and laid his wet face against her burning cheeks.

”My child, my poor Hannah; I thought G.o.d had sent thee peace ten years ago; that He had rewarded thee for thy obedience to His Law.”

She drew her face away from his.

”It was not His Law; it was a miserable juggling with texts. Thou alone interpretedst G.o.d's law thus. No one knew of the matter.”

He could not argue; the breast against which he held her was shaken by a tempest of grief, which swept away all save human remorse, human love.

”My daughter,” he sobbed, ”I have ruined thy life!” After an agonized pause, he said: ”Tell me, Hannah, is there nothing I can do to make atonement to thee?”

”Only one thing, father,” she articulated chokingly; ”forgive Levi.”

There was a moment of solemn silence. Then the Reb spake.

”Tell thy mother to put on her things and take what she needs for the journey. Perchance we may be away for days.”

They mingled their tears in sweet reconciliation. Presently, the Reb said:

”Go now to thy mother, and see also that the boy's room be made ready as of old. Perchance G.o.d will hear my prayer, and he will yet be restored to us.”

A new peace fell upon Hannah's soul. ”My sacrifice was not in vain after all,” she thought, with a throb of happiness that was almost exultation.