Gabriel Part 12

VI.

The winter of the year 1620 had set in betimes, it was a raw cold night. The sky was hidden by a grey veil of clouds, dissipated at one moment by the breath of the icy north wind, at another as rapidly re-condensed. The roofs were covered with deep snow, the ground was frozen hard and crunched under footsteps. It had already become quiet, the numerous vendors, who cheapened their wares in open street till a late hour, and whose candles and small lamps gave a singularly friendly aspect to the Jews-town, had disappeared, the streets were almost empty, and only here and there a solitary pa.s.senger close wrapped in his cloak was seen hastening home, or to the lecture-room.

Gabriel stepped slowly, through the street, stopping almost every minute. He had experienced in his pa.s.sion-tossed life much mental anguish. Since the day, when he had stood in despair at his mother's dying bed, since the day when Blume had contumeliously rejected his warm earnest and chaste young love, his whole life had been full of pain and torment--and yet it appeared to him, as if he had never been so unhappy, never so unutterably wretched, as now. His future confronted him more fearful and horrible than ever. The fortune of war, which had hitherto fastened itself to his, to his friend Mannsfield's banners, seemed to have vanished with Frederick's overthrow on this day.... The audacious confidence with which he had made himself irresponsible for his abjuration of everything which he had formerly considered dear and sacred had been dissipated by Michoel's ardent words, which had struck him with the full overpowering force of truth at the most critical hour.... His only hope, to discover his father, to press him to his heart, to reconcile himself to him, to his destiny, perhaps to G.o.d.... the audacious hope, which had often raised him from the bottomless pit of despair; this one, sweet hope, which had ever, even when he dared not allow it to himself, glimmered in his soul--was dissipated, was annihilated!

In truth it was the crus.h.i.+ng intelligence of his father's early death, which now bowed him down under a burden of infinite sorrow, and almost effaced every earlier impression.... His father had never rejected him, as he had so often in moments of wild excitement feared.... His father had perhaps departed out of this life, without any presentiment that his child would one day be dispairingly searching a trace of his path.... And this father he had never known, and should never, never behold, this father whom he had therefore only so madly hated, because he would have so gladly loved him with the whole gigantic power of his soul!

Gabriel stood pensively in the middle of the street. With the strange bitter grief that, self-tormenting, is wont to tear open the most painful wounds of the heart, he endeavoured once more to bring his father's features which his uncle had so vividly described, before his inner eye; but he strove in vain, confused images alone rose up in his soul, pale men with purple blazing marks on their forehead: and all these dim fancies took shape and vanished with the swiftness of thought: all resembled one another--and yet not one of them was the real genuine image.... And as a man is sometimes unable to remember a word that he desires to utter, and yet it is so infinitely near him, that he thinks, he has but to move the tongue, in order to give voice to it, thus Gabriel peered after this image, it seemed so near, it almost hovered over him--and yet he could not realise it.

"That hope is vanished," he said at length in low tones, pa.s.sing his hand over his forehead--"fix your looks on something else.... The past is unchangeable--the dead are dead.... The grave restores not to the world, the dead never come to life.... _Thy father is dead, he is irrecoverably lost_.... but my vengeance liveth within me, within my breast with a wild h.e.l.l-fire.... forget the dead, and remember vengeance!"

Gabriel once more a.s.sayed, with that admirable suppleness of character that had enabled him to oppose an almost incredible resistance to the bitter blows which had struck him, to withdraw himself from the destructive influence of this vortex of thoughts, to divert his mind from it.... again he sought, as he was often wont to do in moments of highest excitement, some object exterior to himself, that would fix his attention were it but for a short time, and he accounted himself fortunate, as he recognised in a person, who was walking rapidly by him, the Frankfurt student Nochum.

"Good evening," he said, mastering his temper, and with difficulty restraining the ill-will that he could not but feel in the bottom of his heart towards Nochum: "Whither away?"

"I have been with the chief overseer Reb Gadel," answered Nochum, "I had letters of recommendation to him and am in the habit of studying at nights with his son: but they have just been informed, that the Palatine has come over to the Altstadt, bringing the crown and regalia with him, and has signified to the inhabitants of the Altstadt, that he proposes to withdraw from the city at daybreak and leave the field to his victorious antagonists--as you can well fancy, there could be no more talk of study."

"Is this news to be depended upon?" asked Gabriel, after a long pause of reflection.

"It came to the overseer from the most reliable source, and there can be no doubt about it.... however I must ask you to keep the matter secret till morning: it is still unknown to every one else in the Jews-town, and may very well remain so till to-morrow."

Gabriel observed a thoughtful silence. "I am still master of Blume's destiny," he thought, "she still believes that her husband is in my power.... I must make haste.... if I lose the propitious moment for revenge, it is perhaps irrecoverably, for ever lost!"

Nochum misinterpreted Gabriel's silence. He could in truth have no suspicion of the gravity of the intelligence which he had imparted to him, he could have no idea that he was standing by a man, the only hope of whose life had been shortly before annihilated, who designed to take instant vengeance with the full might of hate for the unutterable woe of his whole tormented Past.

"You seem to take a warm interest in public affairs," began Nochum at length, "and I am very glad of it, one finds it so seldom in a student; but here in Prague, at this renowned high-school one meets students, such as one seldom finds elsewhere.--Yesterday for the first time I made the acquaintance of a student, Michoel Glogau; I am only sorry that he is leaving Prague immediately.... I a.s.sure you, never has a young man made so deep an impression upon me as he.... We happened to be talking about a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I laid down a proposition which, I willingly allow, I retracted, when Reb Michoel proved to me that it was wrong.... but what an argument he gave, so clear, so eager, so convincing--but what am I telling you this for, I recollect that you were present during the discussion, and must have heard it too. Michoel found the true, correct, view of the case, did he not?"

Gabriel's heart beat high. His soul was pierced by a thousand arrows, and the reawakened memory of Michoel's crus.h.i.+ng words poured boiling oil into all these open uncicatrized wounds.

"I too am sorry that I fell in with Michoel Glogau so late," said Gabriel with profound emotion.... "but it was in sooth too late, too late!"

Nochum looked enquiringly at Gabriel. The intense trouble that was expressed by his features and words seemed to him incomprehensible.

Gabriel observed this, he was seized with a sudden terror as if he feared that he had betrayed his most secret thoughts.... "Farewell," he cried, after a short pause suddenly breaking off, and hurried as fast as he could through the narrow irregular streets.--Nochum gazed after him for a while in astonishment and then went quietly on his way.

Gabriel did not stop till he had reached Blume's house in the Hahnpa.s.s.

He looked up to the attic windows, one of them was open in spite of the raw wintry cold, and he thought that he perceived in the obscurity the outline of a woman's form.... His heart beat audibly, he laid his hand on the door-latch, but still stood lost in thought.

"Thus then I stand at the goal," he began speaking to himself, at first in low tones, then louder and louder.... "through a long life of torment I have pined for the moment of revenge.... Now it is come, no power on earth can now interpose between me and my revenge.... I will avenge myself.... and then?... then solitary, forsaken, unwept and unregretted--will die on the nearest battle-field.--It might have been otherwise!... Had I encountered that Michoel, whom I now at the end of my wide, wide wandering have found, had I encountered him on that feast of atonement, had he then said those words, which have this day so unsparingly rended my soul--had he then addressed me in such accents--it might have been otherwise! Gabriel Suss, Gabriel Suss, the poor, ill-used, rejected, down trodden,--Gabriel Suss, who has torn himself from the blissful faith of his childhood, Gabriel Suss, who has sought and never found forgetfulness of the past amid the roar of cannon and the turmoil of battle.--Gabriel Suss _might have been a support to the wavering, a teacher of his people, a lofty example of humble resignation to the will of G.o.d_.... _His fate was in his own hands. It was his own fault that he perished!_... That was what you said, Michoel; but it was too late!... but no! no! I am not, I am not guilty of it.... that is your invention, ye believers in G.o.d!... Naught but a malicious, evil chance swayed me, and even at this critical moment would embitter the sweet instant of revenge by a deceitful image of what I might have been.... just as I am hastily setting forth to accomplish my long-coveted revenge, it lets me meet Michoel Glogau!--Oh! it is naught but malicious evil chance! at the moment, when still irresolute I am for the last time imploring thee, whom men call all-mighty, all-merciful,--in the deepest sorrow, that ever crushed a poor human soul, to restore my father to me, a father! a favour that is not refused to the humblest man on earth--at the moment, when I am calling upon thee to restore my father to me, were it but for the shortest interval of time that the human mind is capable of conceiving--to permit me to die in his arms, were it at the penalty of unutterable physical anguish.... _At that moment, I learn that he is dead!_... Where is thy omnipotence? Where? Bow my stiff neck! shatter my pride! conduct me to my father! and I, Gabriel Suss will return unto thee--dost thou hear? to thee, to faith in thee.... I will repent, and dying will glorify thy name!... but it will not be so--the Grave never gives back its dead.... _I was only unexpressibly unfortunate.... and I cry aloud: there is no_...."

Gabriel stopped short. A death-like stillness had reigned round about over the then almost deserted Hahnpa.s.s, bounded, as it was, by the s.p.a.cious graveyard, but suddenly a voice issuing from the burial ground, fell upon his ears, a voice which already once before had made his blood run cold with horror, and which he had then accounted an offspring of his heated over-excited imagination.... but this time it sounded clearer; this time it could be no deception.

"My son! my son! Thou, poor, forsaken one, thou that wert born in sin, where art thou? Where shall I seek thee? Oh! that my voice might echo with the power of thunder, that it might reach from one end of the earth to the other.... perchance my poor son would hear the voice of his father and forgive him!..."

Thus it rung in Gabriel's ears. A hollow cry escaped from his breast, he let fall the latch of the house-door which he had held nervously clutched in his hand.--He looked around, a moderately high wall divided him from the burial ground. Suddenly he perceived a small locked door in the wall, and the intensity of his excitement gave a giant strength to the man naturally powerful: at one blow the boards of the door fell in with a crash, and Gabriel found himself in the cemetery.... His flaming eyes flew over the wide snow-covered s.p.a.ce. It was profoundly dark, the sky was obscured by thick clouds, the crumbling grave-stones made a strange contrast with the glittering snow-field; the old trees with their frosted branches like h.o.a.ry sentinels over this place of rest, floated on the grey atmosphere of the background....

Gabriel put his whole soul in ear and eye:--but for a while saw nothing, heard nothing, not a leaf stirred....

Presently there was a movement among the trees close to him. A feverish heat coursed through his veins: he tottered, but recovered himself with superhuman force and with lips firm closed, and hands pressed nervously against his overflowing bursting heart, approached the thicket....

Tremblingly he parted the branches, nor observed, that his hands were torn and bleeding: he advanced ever forwards, and at last broke through the wood.... Exactly at the same instant the moon pa.s.sed from behind the black clouds that had hitherto veiled it, and cast its full light over the tree-enclosed spot....

Gabriel perceived three grave-stones, a large and two smaller ones.

_The larger had engraved upon it a hunch of grapes the symbol of a Levi_.... a lofty form, an old man had sunk down before the gravestones....

Gabriel wished to press forward, to address the form, to look it face to face.... though it should cost him a thousand lives:--but at that instant the old man's trembling voice again resounded....

Gabriel remained rooted to the ground.

"My G.o.d! my Lord! all-merciful, all-gracious G.o.d!... have I not yet made atonement for the sin of my youth?.... have I not for years done penitence; suffered, as no other man on earth?... Here at the grave of my dead, early lost, father--here at my twin brother's grave, who loved me so dearly, so infinitely deeply, my brother's, who in that fateful night awoke the inexpressibly bitter grief of remorseful despair.... oh would that I had then died, when with strong grasp you threw from off you the disloyal, the wicked shameless brother, would that I had then met my death from your dear fraternal hand!--but no, thou dear one; thou wert not destined to be a Cain, pure and blessed thou wert one day to close thy eyes in peaceful death.... but I, I woke from what seemed the sleep of death, to never ending nameless torment!... At the grave of the never-to-be-forgotten sweet companion of my youth Carpel, whom I would so gladly have once more folded in my arms ... and who peacefully slumbered under this turf, as I returned in despair to Prague, the city of my blissful innocent youth.... at this grave I have for years made my supplication unto thee all-merciful!... Thou, Omniscient, thou that seest into the depths of my soul, thou knowest, what I have suffered!... And still the cloud of thine indignation is not yet pa.s.sed away.... Thou shalt not commit adultery stands ever written in my bible.... and never yet has my son hastened to my arms!..."

Gabriel scarcely breathed. Each word made its way to his heart like a flaming sword. In his breast raged a storm of emotion, that can neither be represented, nor described, nor conceived. In the inmost core of his being an infinite, all-embracing destroying change was brought to pa.s.s.... light suddenly flashed into his soul, and as the dim eyes of the body accustomed to profound obscurity close themselves painfully, if they suddenly gaze into the glowing fire-streams of a mighty volcano; so closed his spiritual eye for one instant before the impression of this trying moment. He was standing by his unhappy father! this form bowed low by sorrow and misery was his poor despairing father.... the mad Jacob!... the most ardent wish of his soul, the deepest longing of his tormented life was stilled, stilled at the moment in which he had given himself over with wild G.o.d-denying insolence to the profoundest despair.... _that was no blind chance_....

Gabriel a.s.sayed to speak, but his thought found no expression, his lips no sound.

"Father of all men! forgive me at last," Jacob began again in the most heart-rending accents of deepest despair; and his body seemed to collapse under the weight of his sorrow--"forgive me, Father of all!...

I have sinned, I have gone astray, but I have suffered endless anguish, and thou, Father! art all-goodness.... Let me die at length, Father of all men.... let me rest by my dear ones.... forgive her also, the mother of my son.... and as a sign that thou hast forgiven me, restore my son to me, _my son_, before I die.... let me die on his heart.... _I can die only on his heart_, I ask for nothing more!... G.o.d! grant me my son!... Oh come to me, my son!... my son, where art thou?"

A silence deep as the grave reigned for a moment; then Gabriel cried: "Father, I am here!"

Both, father and son, stared speechlessly at one another for a s.p.a.ce.... that was the image, that Gabriel had been vainly endeavouring for some hours to conjure up, his father, the wandering Jew of Aix, that form which had once imprinted its hot lips on his young forehead, they were all one and the same....

The highest pitch of madness was mirrored for a minute in Jacob's face.... but gradually and gradually the immense overpowering force of the joyful surprise seemed to drive away the evil spirit that hovered over his soul. His burning eyes, out of which madness had flashed, became wet.... a hot tear escaped from under his eyelashes and trickled slowly down his pale cheeks....

On a sudden, as if a ray of recognition had then for the first time struck him, he exclaimed, "he bears the fiery sign on his forehead! My G.o.d! it is my son!..."

"My father!... Hear oh Israel, the Lord our G.o.d is one G.o.d."

Gabriel flung himself into his father's wide opened arms.... they held one another in close embrace.... their lips quivered as if they would have spoken.... but they never spoke again.... the too swift alternation of feeling had loosened the slight bond that united spirit to body; the most terrible emotion, that has ever possessed a human heart, killed them!

They held one another still fast embraced in death--in life divided, isolated, _in death they would not be parted_.

This heart-breaking scene had not remained unwitnessed. Blume had stood at the window of her house in sad painful expectation.... What she had seen and heard had filled her with unutterable horror.... but she was saved.... Profoundly struck by this dispensation of Providence, she fell with unspeakable emotion upon her knees and prayed.

VII.

The Palatine escaped next morning in the direction of Breslau. Anhalt, Hohenlohe, the elder Thurn, the elder Bubna, Bohuslaw Berka, Raupowa, and others accompanied him.--The Kleinseiters always devoted to the Emperor, as soon as Frederick had left the city sent messengers to Duke Maximilian and begged him to make his entry into the city. At mid-day the Duke accompanied by Boucquoi and Tilly marched through the Strahower Gate to the Hradschin, William of Lobkowiz, and five other Bohemian n.o.bles came to meet him, wished him joy of the victory that he had won, and begged, as the chronicles declare, in a long speech interspersed with much weeping, pardon for their revolt, the maintenance of their liberties and mercy for the city. Maximilian answered benignantly that he would do all that he was able, and that the city should not be injured; with regard to the other points, he had no full powers. For himself he advised them to surrender unconditionally to the Emperor.--The Alt- and Neu-stadters had sent at the same time a deputation to the Duke, with a request, that he would grant them three days to draw up the conditions, under which they were willing to surrender. Maximilian refused this delay, and they immediately took an oath of obedience and fidelity to the Emperor and delivered up their arms to the duke.--The news of the duke's successful entry had evoked the most joyous excitement in the Jews-town, which like the Kleinseiters had ever been well disposed towards the Emperor.

The overseer invited the elders and members of the college of Rabbis to an extraordinary conference at the Rathhaus, and it was unanimously decided, to present a congratulating address to the Duke Maximilian, as victor, in the name of the Jewish community at Prague. The meeting was just at an end, when the grave-diggers accompanied by Cobbler Abraham urgently begged to be admitted. In the morning at a funeral two dead bodies had been found in the burial ground, that held one another close clasped even in death. The two corpses had a.s.sumed in death an extraordinary likeness, a likeness such as one only meets with between father and son, both namely bore upon their forehead a similar blue streak. The mad Jacob had been known to everyone, but with regard to the other body only one of the persons who happened to be present at the funeral, could give accurate information. Cobbler Abraham to wit, declared that he had been acquainted with the young man, who had only lately arrived at Prague, and that immediately on his arrival he had recommended him to a lodging at Reb Schlome Sachs', the upper attendant of the Old-Synagogue. In answer to enquiries made of the last mentioned person later on, he had learnt that the stranger was called Gabriel Mar, and was a clever student from upper Germany. The gravediggers thought it their duty to make a report of this strange occurrence to the college of Rabbis and the overseers of the community, and Cobbler Abraham once again repeated his depositions with respect to the corpse of the young man.

The a.s.sembled authorities accounted this matter of sufficient importance to justify their casting a look over the letters which had been found in the clothes of the deceased. The superscription at once excited universal surprise, the letters were addressed to Major-General Otto Bitter and signed Ernest of Mannsfield, General and Field Marshal; their contents referred to the operations of the war and secret plans.... No one knew what to think about it. Some were inclined to believe that Gabriel Mar was a messenger of Mannsfield's, others doubted, for if so, Mannsfield would not have signed his name in full, and held Gabriel to be a spy of the Imperialists, who had somehow or other got possession of these letters; others again believed simply that Gabriel Mar, and Major-General Otto Bitter were one and the same person. They had just got into a lively discussion on this point, when the door of the council-room was suddenly opened and Reb Schlome Sachs and Reb Michoel Glogau entered unannounced.

"You come at the right time," cried the overseer to him--"perhaps you can give us some information about your lodger, who...."

"We come for that very purpose, Reb Gadel!" interposed Reb Schlome....

"but I am too much overcome with what I have just heard. Do you tell them, Reb Michoel, I pray you, you are more composed than I."