"To the devil he sent my dirty guilders, made in dirty trade. I have not forgot."

"Joris, the Devil speaks for a man in a pa.s.sion. Keep no such words in thy memory."

"Lysbet?"

"What then, Joris?"

"The drinking-cup of silver, which my father gave us at our marriage,--the great silver one that has on it the view of Middleburg and the arms of the city. It was given to my great-grandfather when he was mayor of Middleburg. His name, also, was Joris. To my grandson shall I send it?"

"Oh, my Joris, much pleasure would thou give Katherine and me also! Let the little fellow have it. Earl of Dorset and Hyde he may be yet."

Joris blushed vividly, but he answered, "Mayor of New York he may be yet. That will please me best."

"Five grandsons hast thou, but this is the first Joris. Anna has two sons, but for his dead brothers Rysbaack named them. Cornelia has two sons; but for thee they called neither, because Van Dorn's father is called Joris, and with him they are great unfriends. And when Joanna's son was born, they called him Peter, because Batavius hath a rich uncle called Peter, who may pay for the name. So, then, Katherine's son is the first of thy grandchildren that has thy name. The dear little Joris! He has blue eyes too; eyes like thine, she says. Yes, I would to him give the Middleburg cup. William Newman, the jeweller, will pack it safely, and by the next ship thou can send it to the bankers thou spoke of. I will tell Katherine so. But thou, too, write her a letter; for little she will think of her fortune or of the cup, if thy love thou send not with them."

And Joris had done all that he purposed, and done it without one grudging thought or doubting word. The cup went, full of good-will. The money was given as Katherine's right, and was hampered with no restrictions but the wishes of Joris, left to the honour of Hyde. And Hyde was not indifferent to such n.o.ble trust. He fully determined to deserve it. As for Katherine, she desired no greater pleasure than to emphasize her reliance in her husband by leaving the money absolutely at his discretion. In fact, she felt a far greater interest in the Middleburg cup. It had always been an object of her admiration and desire. She believed her son would be proud to point it out and say, "It came from my mother's ancestor, who was mayor of Middleburg when that famous city ruled in the East India trade, and compelled all vessels with spice and wines and oils to come to the crane of Middleburg, there to be verified and gauged." She longed to receive this gift. She had resolved to put it between the baby fingers of little Joris as soon as it arrived. "A grand christening-cup it will be," she exclaimed, with childlike enthusiasm and Hyde kissed her, and promised to send it at once by a trusty messenger.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Plate old and new]

He was a little amused by her enthusiasm. The Hydes had much plate, old and new, and they were proud of its beauty and excellence, and well aware of its worth; but they were not able to judge of the value of flagons and cups and servers gathered slowly through many generations, every one representing some human drama of love or suffering, or some deed of national significance. Nearly all of Joris Van Heemskirk's silver was "storied:" it was the materialization of honour and patriotism, of self-denial or charity; and the silversmith's and engraver's work was the least part of the Van Heemskirk pride in it.

As Joris sat smoking that night, he thought over his proposal; and then for the first time it struck him that the Middleburg cup might have a peculiar significance and value to Bram. It cost him an effort to put his vague suspicions into words, because by doing so he seemed to give shape and substance to shadows; but when Lysbet sat down with a little sigh of content beside him, and said, "A happy night is this to us, Joris," he answered, "G.o.d is good; always better to us than we trust Him for. I want to say now what I have been considering the last hour,--some other cup we will send to the little Joris, for I think Bram will like to have the Middleburg cup best of all."

"Always Bram has been promised the Guilderland cup and the server that goes with it."

"That is the truth; but I will tell you something, Lysbet. The Middelburg cup was given by the Jews of Middleburg to my ancestor because great favours and protection he gave them when he was mayor of the city. Bram is very often with Miriam Cohen, and"--

Then Joris stopped, and Lysbet waited anxiously for him to finish the sentence; but he only puffed, puffed, and looked thoughtfully at the bowl of his pipe.

"What mean you, Joris?"

"I think that he loves her."

"Well?"

"That he would like to marry her."

"Many things that are impossible, man would like to do: that is most impossible of all."

"You think so?"

"I am sure of it."

"Not impossible was it for Katherine to marry one not of her own race."

"In my mind it is not race so much as faith. Far more than race, faith claims."

"Hyde is a Lutheran."

"A Lutheran may also be a Christian, I hope, Joris."

"I judge no man, Lysbet. I have known Jews that were better Christians than some baptized in the name of Christ and John Calvin,--Jews who, like the great Jew, loved G.o.d, and did to their fellow-creatures as they wished to be done by. And if you had ever seen Miriam Cohen, you would not make a wonder that Bram loves her."

"Is she so fair?"

"A beautiful face and gracious ways she has. Like her the beloved Rachel must have been, I think. Why do you not stand with Bram as you stood with Katherine?"

"Little use it would be, Joris. To give consent in this matter would be a sacrifice refused. Be sure that Cohen will not listen to Bram; no, nor to you, nor to me, nor to Miriam. If it come to a question of race, more proud is the Jew of his race then even the Englishman or the Dutchman.

If it come to a question of faith, if all the other faiths in the world die out, the Jew will hold to his own. Say to Bram, 'I am willing;' and Cohen will say to him, 'Never, never will I consent.' If you keep the 'Jew's cup' for Bram and Miriam, always you will keep it; yes, and they that live after you, too."

Why it is that certain trains of thought and feeling move to their end at the same hour, though that end affect a variety of persons, no one has yet explained. But there are undoubtedly currents of sympathy of whose nature and movements we are profoundly ignorant. Thus how often we think of an event just before some decisive action relating to it is made known to us! How often do we recall some friend just as we are about to see or hear from him! How often do we remember something that ought to be done, just at the last moment its successful accomplishment was possible to us!

And at the very hour Joris and Lysbet were discussing the position of their son with regard to Miriam Cohen, the question was being definitely settled at another point. For Joris was not the only person who had observed Bram's devotion to the beautiful Jewess. Cohen had watched him with close and cautious jealousy for many months; but he was far too wise to stimulate love by opposition, and he did not believe in half measures. When he defined Miriam's duty to her, he meant it to be in such shape as precluded argument or uncertainty; and for this purpose delay was necessary. Much correspondence with England had to take place, and the mails were then irregular. But it happened that, after some months of negotiation, a final and satisfactory letter had come to him by the same post as brought Katherine's letter to Joris Van Heemskirk.

He read its contents with a sad satisfaction, and then locked it away until the evening hours secured him from business interruption. Then he went to his grandchild. He found her sitting quietly among the cushions of a low couch. It seemed as if Miriam's thoughts were generally sufficient for her pleasure, for she was rarely busy. She had always time to sit and talk, or to sit and be silent. And Cohen liked best to see her thus,--beautiful and calm, with small hands dropped or folded, and eyes half shut, and mouth closed, but ready to smile and dimple if he decided to speak to her.

She looked so pretty and happy and careless that for some time he did not like to break the spell of her restful beauty. Nor did he until his pipe was quite finished, and he had looked carefully over the notes in his "day-book." Then he said in slow, even tones, "My child, listen to me. This summer my young kinsman Judah Belasco will come here. He comes to marry you. You will be a happy wife, my dear. He has moneys, and he has the power to make moneys; and he is a good young man. I have been cautious concerning that, my dear."

There was a long pause. He did not hurry her, but sat patiently waiting, with his eyes fixed upon the book in his hand.

"I do not want to marry, grandfather. I am so young. I do not know Judah Belasco."

"You shall have time, my dear. It is part of the agreement that he shall now live in New York. He is a rich young man, my dear. He is of the _sephardim_, as you are too, my dear. You must marry in your own caste; for we are of unmixed blood, faithful children of the tribe of Judah.

All of our brethren here are _Ashkenasem_: therefore, I have had no rest until I got a husband fit for you, my dear. This was my duty, though I brought him from the end of the earth. It has cost me moneys, but I gave cheerfully. The thing is finished now, when you are ready. But you shall not be hurried, my dear."

"Father, I have been a good daughter. Do not make me leave you."

"You have been good, and you will be good always. What is the command?"

"Honor thy father and thy mother."

"And the promise?"

"Then long shall be thy days on the earth."

"And the vow you made, Miriam?"

"That I would never disobey or deceive you."

"Who have you vowed to?"

"The G.o.d of Israel."

"Will you lie unto Him?"

"I would give my life first."

"Now is the time to fulfil your vow. Put from your heart or fancy any other young man. Have you not thought of our neighbour, Bram Van Heemskirk?"