Rabbi and Priest

M >> Milton Goldsmith >> Rabbi and Priest

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Court balls in Russia do not differ materially from those of other
countries, and we will leave the gay cavaliers and pretty women whirling
through one of Strauss' waltzes, while we enter the Governor's private
room.

General Dimitri Drentell and his intimate advisers had withdrawn from
the festivities and had sought the seclusion of the cabinet. Mikail the
priest had just entered.

"Ah! Mikail," said the Governor; "you are a late caller."

"The train brought me from St. Petersburg but a few minutes ago, and I
hastened to present myself to your excellency at once. Had I known that
there was a ball this evening, I should have deferred my visit until
to-morrow."

"Make no apologies," answered Drentell. "We would have been disappointed
had you not come to-night. What news do you bring us from the capital?"

"The best, your excellency. I spoke to his imperial majesty in person.
He desires to be commended to you, and approves of your energetic
measures in bringing the suspected Nihilists to judgment. He counts your
excellency among his stanchest supporters."

The Governor flushed with pleasure. Bright visions of future advancement
passed through his mind.

"And our policy as regards the Jews?" he asked.

"Has his sanction! In fact, any project which will divert the minds of
the populace from political questions, meets with imperial favor. But
the animosity towards the Jews must not appear too sudden and
unwarranted. Convinced that they have in many cases assumed privileges
not allowed them by law, and rendered themselves punishable by the
statutes, the Minister of War has decided to appoint a commission of
inquiry, which shall investigate the following questions." The priest
took an official paper from his pocket and read:

"_First_--In what trades do the Jews engage which are injurious to the
well-being of the faithful inhabitants?

"_Second_--Is it impracticable to put into force the ancient laws
limiting the rights of the Jews in the matter of buying and farming
land, and in the trade in intoxicants.

"_Third_--How can these laws be strengthened so that they can no longer
be evaded?

"_Fourth_--To what extent is usury practised by the Jews in their
dealings with the Christians.

"_Fifth_--What is the number of public houses kept by the Jews, and what
is the injury resulting to Christians by reason of the sale of
intoxicants.

"The commission is to report to the Minister of War as soon as
practicable," continued Mikail, replacing the paper in his pocket. "I
have the honor to be one of the commissioners, and as soon as we have
obtained definite information upon these points--information which is
sure to be damaging--we will be ready to proceed against the accursed
race."

"But if the reports are not damaging to the Jews?" asked one of the
officials.

"They will be," answered the priest; "the commission has been appointed
for that purpose."

"Then woe to the Jews!" answered the official.

"Yes, woe to the Jews!" responded the priest, and the malignant
expression of his countenance boded ill to his kindred.

"Come! let us return to the ball room," said Drentell, taking the priest
by the arm.

"Your excellency must pardon me," answered Mikail, "My clothes are
travel-stained, and I am neither in a condition nor in the humor to
enjoy the festivities."

"But Loris is here," continued the Governor.

Mikail suppressed a grimace of displeasure.

"There is no haste. I shall see him to-morrow," he answered, and bowed
himself out of the room.

"Strange man," muttered the Governor, when the door had closed upon the
priest's retreating form. "I almost fear him when he is attacked by his
fits of gloomy anger. Poor Jews! You will find Drentell a different man
from your soft-hearted Pomeroff. Ah, if Mikail but knew; if he but
knew!"

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE PRIEST IN THE SYNAGOGUE.

Mikail did not allow the grass to grow beneath his feet. Stimulated by
the approval of the Czar as well as by his own undying hatred, he lost
no time in collecting the statistics that were required for his
purpose.

Hitherto he had been content to accept hearsay evidence in his estimate
of Jewish life and character; he had never knowingly come in contact
with one of the race. Convinced, however, that public opinion was not
half severe enough, he determined to personally investigate their manner
of life. For some days, therefore, he made periodical trips through the
old Jewish quarter, sounded the Christians with whom the Jews
occasionally associated, and with an acute but not impartial eye, made
his observations.

It was Saturday of the week following the events narrated in the last
chapter. The snow that mantled the earth was frozen solid, and the bells
tinkled merrily as the sleighs skimmed over the glistening road. A cold
bracing air sent the blood surging through the veins of the pedestrians
and brought the ruddy glow of health to their cheeks.

The priest, bent upon new discoveries, walked rapidly in the direction
of the Jewish quarter. Suddenly he stopped. He had almost run against a
man who was hurriedly walking in the opposite direction.

"What, Loris! is it you?" he cried, upon recognizing his protector's
son. "What are you doing in this part of the town?"

"I might repeat the question," answered Loris. "Why is a priest roaming
about these streets, when he should be counting his beads up in the
Petcherskoi convent?"

Mikail frowned. Loris' sneering tone grated harshly upon him.

"I owe you no explanation," he said, curtly; "but if it will give you
any satisfaction to know, I am following up a subject of importance to
the State."

"And I," said Loris, confidingly, "am following up a far more
interesting subject. You should see her, Mikail! Such a head, such eyes,
such a form! To think that I have wasted so many months abroad while
Kief held such a treasure!"

"What do you mean?" asked the priest, dryly.

"A young girl, of course. She must live about here somewhere. I saw her
come up this street, but when I turned the corner she had mysteriously
disappeared. I tell you, Mikail, she is a beauty. I shall not rest until
I find her!"

"You are seeking perdition," exclaimed the priest, wrathfully. "A pretty
face is Satan's trap to lure a weak soul into his toils."

"Convent talk!" answered Loris, disdainfully. "Why do I stand here and
speak to a priest about a woman? When you take your vows of celibacy you
pretend to dislike anything that wears petticoats. But I doubt whether
even you could resist the temptation of a handsome face and voluptuous
form."

Mikail's eyes flashed. He was about to reply to Loris' sneer, but, by a
severe effort, he checked his rising anger, and without another word
turned on his heel and walked away.

"Ill-natured cur!" muttered Loris. "They are all alike--hypocritical
fools! With all their pretended virtue, I would not like to expose the
best of them to even a moderate temptation."

Mikail walked through a maze of lanes until he came to the street which
had formed one of the boundaries of the "Jews' town." He now observed,
for the first time, groups of Jewish men, women and children, dressed in
their holiday attire, pass him and enter a large building not far away.

"It is their Sabbath, and they are going to their barbarous worship,"
thought the priest, as he crossed himself.

He went further into the quarter, carefully avoiding the groups that he
encountered, and finally entered the dwelling of a Christian woman, who
sublet rooms to Jewish tenants. The information which awaited him here
must have been important, for it was quite a while before he emerged
into the street and retraced his steps towards the city. His path led
directly past Mendel's synagogue. Through the window he heard the chant
of the _hazan_, and he paused, reflectively.

"After all," he murmured, "what harm can it do if I go in. I am in
search of facts and where shall I be better able to find them than in
the Jews' stronghold, their synagogue?"

Crossing himself devoutly, he opened the door and entered.

The _shamas_ (sexton), surprised to see a _gallach_ (priest) in the
synagogue, stood for some moments in doubt, but finally shuffled up to
the stranger and showed him a seat in the last row of benches.

Mikail sat down passively. For a moment he seemed dazed and stupefied.
Perhaps it was only the heat and the glare of the burning candles; but
gradually a strange spell came over him, which he tried in vain to shake
off.

He could not remember ever having been in a synagogue, and yet the
praying-desks, the pulpit and the ark for the holy scrolls seemed
singularly familiar. He looked up. Yes, there was the latticed gallery
filled with women, just as he had expected to find it!

The _hazan_ was intoning a prayer. Between the words he interjected a
number of strange trills and turns. How weird it all sounded, and yet
how familiar to the wondering priest. Mikail found himself almost
instinctively supplying the following word before it was uttered by the
reader. Then the congregation arose and responded to the prayer, and
Mikail arose, too, and it seemed as though the words of the responses
were laid upon his tongue.

It was strange, very strange, and yet it was fascinating.

Again the congregation arose. The Rabbi went to the ark at the back of
the pulpit and took out one of the scrolls, covered with a red velvet
cloth curiously embroidered with golden letters. Mikail followed his
every movement with intense interest. He scarcely breathed.

"_Shema Israel,_" sang the Rabbi; "_Adonai Elohenu,_" and then he paused
a moment to clear his throat of something he must have inhaled.

"Why don't he continue," thought Mikail, impatient at the momentary
interruption, and then in a voice loud enough to be heard over the
entire synagogue, he ended the sentence by crying:

"_Adonai Echod!_"

All turned to look at the speaker, and they whispered among themselves
in surprise at hearing a monk recite the _shema_ in a _schul_. The women
looked down from the gallery in amazement.

Mikail's face flushed. His first impulse was to flee, to get out of the
accursed place, to break the spell of enchantment that bound him. With a
muttered prayer he strode to the door, only to find it locked from
without. It was customary to bolt the door during certain portions of
the service, to prevent noise and consequent disturbance.

The priest was therefore obliged to remain. Obeying a natural impulse,
he made the sign of the cross, set his jaws firmly, and awaited further
developments.

The _hazan_ opened the Pentateuch and the _parnas_ of the congregation
was called to the _Torah_. Every movement was anticipated by the priest.
The parnas reverently lifted the fringes of his _tallis_, and with them
touched the sacred Scroll; then, kissing them, he recited the customary
blessing. Mikail repeated it with him. It sounded almost as familiar as
his own liturgy. Suddenly a reaction came over the stern and haughty
priest as the services continued. A strange storm broke within his
bosom; undefined recollections, visions of a once happy home, a tangled
revery of fanciful memories chased each other through his excited brain.
Without knowing why, he felt the hot tears coursing down his cheeks,
tears which not even the harsh treatment he had endured during his early
years at the monastery could force from their reservoirs. One after
another, seven men were called to the _Torah_, and their actions and
prayers were a repetition of those of the _parnas_. The monotonous
reading at length came to an end, Mikail heard the bolts withdrawn, and
with hasty strides he cleared the passage into the street. On he sped
through the city, looking neither to the right nor the left, scarcely
knowing whither he went, until he finally reached the Petcherskoi
convent, where he had taken up his temporary quarters. Without returning
the greetings of the monks, apparently unconscious of his surroundings,
he went straight to his cell and there gave way to a flood of passion.

An hour afterwards a monk found him upon his knees before an icon, in
fervent prayer.

"I have been bewitched, Sergeitch," he said, with his wonted calmness.
"Pray for me that the evil spirit may leave me."

CHAPTER XXIX.

LORIS FALLS IN LOVE.

Kathinka, well wrapped in a heavy mantle, walked briskly along the
darkening street. She had gone to the extreme end of the city to succor
a sick and needy widow and was now hastening homeward with a light and
happy heart. The world seemed bright and cheerful to the young girl
whose every desire was gratified and every wish granted. As she neared
her home, she became aware of the presence of a man some yards behind
her, keeping pace with her own steps. Kathinka quickened her gait, but
the man was evidently determined not to lose sight of her and hurried
after her. The girl remembered that she had been followed by the same
person some days before, and, while she attached no importance to the
incident at that time, she now became frightened and glanced timidly
about her. The street was deserted and there was no place of refuge in
sight. With a little cry of alarm, she lifted her skirts and ran at full
speed in the direction of her dwelling, but she had not proceeded far
before the stranger caught up with her, and, grasping her by the arm,
held her as in a vise. Kathinka stopped and, with flushed and angry
look, faced the stranger.

"Lovely creature," said the man, insinuatingly, when he had recovered
his breath, "why do you flee from me? Can you not see that I am anxious
to speak with you?"

"Let me go!" cried the girl, indignantly. "You hurt me."

Loris, for the stranger was no other than the Governor's son, released
the girl's arm, but he barred her escape by placing himself directly
before her. Kathinka tried in vain to pass him; then, pausing, with
heaving bosom, she cried:

"What do you mean, sir? Have you no manhood left, that you molest a
defenceless woman?"

"Listen to me but a moment," answered Loris, passionately; "and then go
your way if you will. I have been following your footsteps for the last
two weeks, desiring, yet fearing, to speak to you. From the day I first
beheld you, I have thought of nothing else. I have sighed for you and
dreamed of you. I was happy when I caught a glimpse of you and sad when
you were out of my sight, sad until I saw your features again. Do not
now repulse me. Take pity upon me."

These sentences, expressed with all the passionate earnestness of which
youth is capable, greatly terrified Kathinka.

"Sir, I do not know you," she exclaimed; "and if I did I could have
nothing in common with you. Let me go, and if you are a gentleman, you
will in future avoid troubling me."

"By God, you shall not leave me without giving me some encouragement.
Kathinka, I love you! When you know who I am you will not treat me so
cruelly."

"If you were the Governor himself I should have but one answer for you,
and that is that you have outraged every sentiment of honor," cried the
girl, with growing indignation.

Loris seized her hand.

"No, do not despise me; hear me to the end!" he cried, passionately. "I
am Loris Drentell, the son of your Governor. I know what I am risking in
loving a Jewess, but I cannot help it. Kathinka, you have bewitched me.
I love you! Do you understand me? I love you! I only ask you to think
kindly of me, to see me of your own free will, and to give me the
blessed hope that you will in time return my affection. Do not consign
me to misery!"

Kathinka struggled to free her hand from his grasp. Overcome by terror,
it was some time before she could gain strength to reply.

"Count Drentell," she said, at length; "you have spoken the truth. I am
a Jewess, and any contact with me would dishonor you. Moreover, I am
betrothed to one of my own race, and while I feel the honor you would
bestow upon me in offering me your love, I have but one reply to make: I
do not wish to see you again."

"Don't drive me to despair, Kathinka; I cannot live without your
friendship, without your love. Why should your betrothed stand in the
way? I am rich and powerful. I can give you whatever your heart desires.
You shall want for nothing, if you will only look upon me with favor."
And he again seized her hand and covered it with kisses.

This flattering speech filled Kathinka with loathing. Well she knew that
it meant not love, but the basest of passions, and that a Jewess could
never become more than the passing fancy of Count Drentell. With a
disdainful glance at him, she turned to go.

"Count Drentell," she answered, calmly; "this is disgraceful. You seem
to forget your position, your birth. You forget that I belong to a
proscribed race."

"You are right," replied the young man, bitterly; "I forgot everything
but my love for you."

"Then try and forget that. And now, sir, enough of this farce. Let me
pass, or I shall call for help."

Loris bit his lips in vexation.

"Do not decide so hastily," he said. "A terrible danger threatens the
Jews. My father, who detests your people, is even now plotting their
destruction. I may, perhaps, avert the calamity, may dissuade him from
his terrible projects. Will you allow me to serve you? One word of
encouragement and I will be your willing slave."

Kathinka started. Was it true that a new danger menaced her people? She
could not tell. Perhaps it was but an invention of the Count to further
his own ends. In her opinion, he was base enough for anything.

"The God of Israel has been our support in the past," she answered,
firmly; "He will not desert us in the future. Come what will, I shall
not endeavor to avoid it by the loss of my self-respect. Now, make way,
sir; let me go."

"And is this the end of all my dreams? Am I to abandon all hope of ever
seeing you again?" asked Loris, gloomily.

"Count Drentell," replied the girl, with a proud glance. "Do not
persecute me with your attentions, which are extremely distasteful to
me. I trust we shall never meet again."

And with a haughty sweep of her beautiful head, she passed the
astonished Loris and walked rapidly down the street.

The young man looked after her for a moment in silence; then he stamped
his foot in rage.

"She refuses my attentions, the proud Jewess! But I will conquer her in
spite of her pride."

It was not until Kathinka reached home that her strong spirit gave way,
and she threw herself into a chair and wept bitterly. Her mother and
father, surprised at such an outburst of emotion, hastened to her side,
but it was some time before the girl attempted an explanation. Then she
told her parents of her encounter with the Governor's son.

The Rabbi walked up and down the room in great perturbation. The affair
promised no pleasant conclusion.

"Alas, that your beauty should have attracted the young Count!" he said.
"It is very unfortunate. Who knows to what extremes he may go to revenge
himself upon you for having refused his advances."

"Was there any other course for me to take?" asked Kathinka.

"No, my child; you acted honorably. There was nothing else for you to
do."

"But the calamity which the man predicted would befall Israel?" said
Recha.

"It may have been an idle threat. There is no need of borrowing trouble.
Misfortune has ever found the Jews steadfast and ready to bear the
greatest hardships for their faith. If new troubles come, we will not be
found wanting. In the meantime there is nothing to do but wait."

"If I should meet him again and he should again force his attentions
upon me, what could I do?" sighed Kathinka, nervously.

"For the present do not venture out unless with me or Joseph. We must
inform Kierson of this matter at once. He has doubtless frequent
opportunities of seeing this young Count and can keep his eyes on him.
Perhaps Drentell is honorable enough to desist if he sees that his
advances are repelled."

Kathinka shook her head, despondently.

"I fear not, father. You should have seen his face and heard his words.
Such passion is not subdued by neglect. I am afraid that he will become
our implacable enemy and that we will eventually have more to fear from
his hatred than from his love."

The Rabbi did not reply, but his heart echoed his daughter's
forebodings.

CHAPTER XXX.

AN UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER.

Kathinka now rarely went out, and never alone. On her way to the
synagogue and upon her little errands of mercy, she was invariably
attended by her devoted Joseph. The very danger to which the girl had
been exposed served to cement their hearts more closely.

For a time, nothing was seen of Loris. One day, however, Joseph and
Kathinka had just left the Rabbi's house.

"Look," whispered Kathinka, pressing Joseph's arm, "he is following us."

Joseph turned rapidly and perceived the form of Loris at some distance
behind them. The Count, seeing that he was observed, turned a corner and
disappeared. For several months after, Kathinka saw nothing more of her
persecutor, and the disagreeable episode gradually faded from her
memory.

One bright afternoon the girl sat at her window, reading. Her father was
engaged in his duties at the school, and her mother had gone from home
to take a bottle of wine to a sick neighbor and would probably remain
away until evening. Kathinka was not alone, however, for she had the
companionship of her books, more congenial entertainers than were the
gossiping maidens of her intimate circle.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door; before she could rise it was
thrown open, and Loris Drentell stood before her. He deliberately closed
the door again and placed his hat and coat upon a chair.

Kathinka could not utter a word, so great was her consternation. Loris
stood facing her for some moments in silence.

"Kathinka," he said, at length, "I have come at the risk of offending
you, to repeat the declaration I made some time ago; to tell you that I
love you. Do you still bear me the ill-will that you evinced towards me
then?"

Kathinka rose from her chair and, drawing herself up to her full height,
pointed to the door.

"Go!" she said, "or I shall summon help."

Loris smiled cynically.

"Do not excite yourself unnecessarily," he said, coolly. "You are alone
in the house. I know it, for I have been watching for some time and saw
both your parents leave. It will be useless for you to call for
assistance. Sit down and hear me out."

Finding resistance useless, the girl fell back into her chair, and with
a gesture of despair hid her face in her hands.

"Miss Winenki," said Loris, quietly at first, but gradually becoming
more passionate in his appeal, "do not judge me harshly for taking this
means of seeing you. I knew of no other way of gaining your ear. I love
you sincerely, madly. For the last two months I have been vainly
struggling with this feeling, have been trying to conquer my
infatuation, but I am ever haunted by the vision of your beauty. Do not
turn from me as though I were unworthy of you. Think not of me as a
cold, selfish man who lives but to satisfy the desires of a moment.
Never had maiden so devoted a lover as I will be to you. I will grant
your every wish, I will bestow upon you wealth and luxury. You shall be
the envied of all the ladies of the land and I will have no other aim
than to make you happy. Can you still doubt me when I, who might win the
proudest in the Empire, now kneel at your feet and ask you to smile upon
me?"

Loris had fallen upon his knees and had seized the girl's hand, which he
lifted passionately to his lips.

Alone with this singular man, who seemed swayed only by his passions,
Kathinka was overcome by a terror which robbed her of the power of
speech. She could only gaze into Loris' upturned face in mute despair.

Drentell interpreted her silence favorably, and with a joyful cry he
arose and folded the astonished girl in his arms.

"You will be mine, you will not reject my love? Turn your eyes upon me
and make me happy with your smile. Do not struggle in my embrace, but
tell me that you love me."

By a violent effort Kathinka succeeded in freeing herself from his
passionate clasp and now stood with her back to the wall. Her black eyes
flashed with an angry fire, as she cried:

"Count Drentell, you have taken advantage of my helplessness to intrude
upon my privacy and have acted, not as befits a gentleman, but in a
manner that one would scarcely expect from the meanest of your father's
serfs. Let us understand one another. In spite of my repulses you still
continue to assert that you love me."

"To desperation," murmured the Count.

"Were I to yield to your entreaties and accept your love, would you make
me your wife? Would you present me to the world as the Countess
Drentell? Answer me, sir!"

Loris hesitated before replying.

"I would surround you with all the luxury and pomp that money could
command. I would make you the happiest of women."

"I demand an unequivocal reply. Would you make me your wife?" insisted
the girl.

"Before God we would be man and wife."

"Count Drentell, would you brave the anger of your father and the
opinion of the entire court and present me, the Jewess, as your wife?"

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