David the younger had received his education in Warsaw and abroad; he bore no trace whatever of his origin. Well educated, but very corrupt at heart, he found in his insatiable cupidity many ways of gaining money. The father was proud of his only scion, and predicted for him a high destiny; and this time the proverb "like father like son" was right.

While the solemn ceremony of the Sabbath was being kept in the house of Jankiel, the two Davids lighted their candles and ate their supper, but forgot the prayers and the offerings of bread and wine. They were alone.

Long time a widower, Seeback had no other child but David. A weak character, he jested under all circ.u.mstances, and loved to make a trial of wit with his son. David the younger sometimes lent himself to this paternal whim, but, in general, he a.s.sumed a certain gravity, so as to impose upon people by an affected wisdom. Hypocrisy was developed in the family from one generation to another.

With all his indifference to religion, David the elder felt, on the days consecrated by custom, a certain remorse for having abandoned the pious customs; he was uneasy and unhappy. Sometimes he glided into an obscure corner, and murmured a portion of a prayer that he considered ridiculous to repeat aloud. He believed that by these clandestine practices he might repel some imminent danger. He had lost all respect for Jehovah, but he feared him still. Several times on this evening he arose from the table, and, at the risk of incurring his son's sneers, muttered in his sleeve some prayer. He had even simulated the blessing of the wine when he presented it to his heir, who, with a certain tact, feigned not to notice all his grimaces. The younger David had a distinguished manner, but his features expressed pride and foppery.

The father increased these faults by praises, and his admiration almost reached idolatry. He asked nothing in return but filial grat.i.tude. The young man made very little account of his father, and reproached him continually for infractions of the laws of good society and for his ignorance. The old man at first essayed to justify himself, but always finished by bowing to the superior wisdom of David, junior. This insolent c.o.xcomb was seated at table in a dressing-gown, with a cigar in his mouth. He wore gold spectacles, though they really hindered him from seeing. Fish was served, the only vestige of traditional customs, then a roast and tea. The old man cut the bread, muttering some unintelligible words; but he perceived a look of disdain from his son, and did not finish the prayer. There was a long silence, which the father broke by asking the young man, who had stretched himself out in a chair:

"What do you dream of? Of the Sabbath?"

"All that I know of the Sabbath is," replied David the younger, "that formerly they celebrated it. Today it is foolish, a foolish custom, and it is old Jankiel alone who observes the ridiculous ceremonies.

Unfortunately, ridicule makes no impression on him."

"Would you, then, mock him?"

"Why not? This wretched, vulgar Jew feels for us only malevolence and repulsion."

"What matters it? He cannot injure us. His ill-will cannot make us lose one thing or another."

"That is true. And I would not have even noticed his aversion had he not such a pretty daughter."

"How now! What are you thinking of? Do not forget that you are already married, although you do not live with your wife. Do not plunge yourself in a love affair. There are plenty of girls who will suit you better than that la.s.s. Even if you wish to be divorced, you must not dream of her. We can easily find for you the daughter of some Polish proprietor. If you take a second wife, you must look as high as possible, and for one not a Jewess. Am I not sufficiently rich to buy a property grand enough to make all the neighbouring aristocracy jealous?"

"I do not want land. Why invest in property that does not return four per cent., when we can now get twenty or thirty?"

"You are right, and you are wrong. Our capital brings in, it is true, the interest you name, but at the same time we run the risk of losing it. When one has acquired so immense a fortune as ours, it does not do to expose all of it in the same speculations. Land cannot run away. The banks give four and a half per cent.; but even the banks can fail. One cannot sleep easy with much money in the banks. The public funds? They are depressed. I continually fear a declaration of war. Land is really the safest investment."

"Not as safe as you think. The land can be taken from us."

"By whom?"

"We are not in France, or England, where property is sacred. Our government offers no security. No one is secure here."

"A very profound political thought, and one worthy of being remembered.

I render homage to your perspicacity; but suppose even that half of the land was confiscated, the other half would increase in value. That is indisputable, while paper may be worth nothing to-morrow. Let us return to your future marriage. The first was unworthy of you; it must be dissolved. But why the devil do you dream of Lia? She did well for herself to fall in your way. She is a Jewess, and, though she is not bad looking, beauty is not everything. What a figure she would make in your _salon_, this country maiden who knows not how either to stand or to sit. Your second wife must be a woman who has received a refined education. She must be of n.o.ble birth, that she may shine at court. And could Lia do that? A simple country girl!"

"Nevertheless," objected David, "it is not for my _salon_ that I wish to marry. I myself prefer a simple and innocent girl to all the fashionable ladies of Warsaw, who, having had eleven adorers, marry the twelfth."

"You talk foolishly. To think thus is the part of a common Jew, who only dreams of multiplying and filling the earth according to the command of the Bible. Your wife ought to push your fortunes. Through your education and your fortune you cannot fail to become a celebrated man. And what would you do then with Lia? Take her to a ball, or to the theatre? Truly, she would do you honour! If some great person noticed her, she would be confused and embarra.s.sed, sucking her ap.r.o.n to hide her face. There are hundreds of Jewesses like that. You must take an educated wife, German or French. With your brains, and my money, you can aspire to anything. It would not be astounding for you to become minister, and then"--

He threw out his arm, and extinguished a candle. He arose to light it, but, suddenly remembering that this was the Sabbath day, a superst.i.tious fear came over his spirit. He remained standing, not knowing what to do.

Seeing his father's hesitation, his son left his chair, and was bold enough to relight the candle. After this act of courage he reseated himself, and puffed his cigar with a malicious air.

His father loved to smoke, but, as he dared not infringe the law, he always deprived himself of that pleasure on the Sabbath, under pretext of some trifling indisposition. When the candle was relighted, an infraction of the Jewish law, he at first regarded it with fear, but soon regained his normal state, and continued to explain his theories on marriage.

"Lia cannot hope for a great fortune," said he. "Estimating Jankiel's wealth at its highest,--house, manufactory, and shop,--he scarcely possesses a hundred, or a hundred and twenty thousand roubles. What is that? A mere trifle to us!"

"And we," asked the young man, to tease his father, "have we not enough money?"

"How can such a word come out of your mouth? Has one ever enough? With money one does as he wills; without it, with all the intelligence in the world, one is only a fool. I will try to find you a rich wife.

Think no more of Lia."

"What if I love her?"

"Love her? Your love will only be like a fire of straw; the faster it burns, the sooner it will die out. A sensible man does not marry for love and for the bright eyes of a young girl."

David, junior, burst out laughing, and his father was exceedingly proud of this mark of approbation from one who was usually so disdainful.

Satisfied with themselves, they were about to retire to their rooms, when they heard loud knocks on the outer door.

The thing was so extraordinary at this hour of the night, that the old man experienced a sensation of anxiety and foreboding, which changed to one of surprise when he saw at the door a man of fine appearance and of commanding stature, whom he did not recognize at first sight.

"Messieurs," said the stranger, "I hope you will pardon this intrusion on a holy day, and at so late an hour."

"Why, this is Monsieur Jacob!" cried the old man.

"Our holy law," replied the new-comer, "forbids all business transactions on the day consecrated to G.o.d, but the law permits us, on such occasions, to succour even a beast in danger of death; how much more, then, a man."

"Dear Monsieur Jacob, we do not belong to that superst.i.tious cla.s.s who dare not touch the fire or sew on a b.u.t.ton during the Sabbath. Be seated. What can we do for you? But pardon me; my son David, Monsieur Jacob, who is a distant relation, and of whom you have often heard me speak," added he, presenting his son to the visitor.

David, junior, only knew that Jacob had been the sole legatee of a rich banker of Berlin, but that was sufficient to cause him to receive him with distinction. They invited him a second time to be seated. Jacob excused himself with a certain impatience.

"Perhaps you have not yet supped?" asked the master of the house.

"I reached your town somewhat late, and hastened to fulfil my religious duties. I have been to the synagogue, then I ate a little at the inn."

"Ah, you go to the temple!" and turning toward his son, the old man said:--

"What a good example! Monsieur Jacob, well brought up and intelligent, observes the law!"

"Yes," said Jacob, "a Jew I shall always remain. No doubt in captivity and exile we have added many ceremonies to the Mosaic law. These are both sweet and bitter souvenirs. It is good not to let them be extinguished."

The elder David visibly rejoiced at these words; his son smiled and bit his lips.

"Every one ought to follow the dictates of his own conscience," said he.

"But tell us to what good fortune do we owe your visit?" asked the father.

"I come to you on account of our relationship, to demand a service. I met in Italy a young Polish exile who suffers so much with homesickness that I brought him here with me. He was poor and ill. My conscience urged me to aid him. He fled from Poland several years ago, fearing to be implicated in a political plot."

"Political affairs; bad business," grumbled the old man shaking his head, while his son said nothing.

"He has succeeded in obtaining a pa.s.sport under an a.s.sumed name,"

continued Jacob, "and he was determined to brave the danger, and accompanied me to Poland. At the frontier he would not accept my offer to go on with him. For fear of compromising me if he was arrested, he preceded me so as to enter his native land alone. Honest youth! Happily he pa.s.sed the frontier, as I learned on arriving two days later.

Scarcely had I pa.s.sed the custom-house when I heard that the police had discovered that he was travelling under an a.s.sumed name. I hastened to rejoin him at the station where he was detained, and secured his release. I come to ask you to shelter him in your house, which is not suspected by the police, until I can obtain amnesty for him or find some other means to rid him of his pursuers. Otherwise the unfortunate boy will be sent to Siberia, and perish like many others of his oppressed countrymen."

The silence with which the two Davids answered his request showed that they were not inclined to harbour the young Pole. The appeal to their sentiment of humanity fell on deaf ears. It was the elder who, with a frown, finally spoke.