The Jew Part 62

"Bah! We can arrange it. I will have Henri. The others? I am disgusted with them."

Her mother said in a low voice:--

"To marry Henri will be the same as to marry a widower, for a divorce is almost the same thing."

"What has that to do with it? I wonder how many times most men have been widowers before marriage."

"That is true. Then that is no objection; but you must hasten things, my child. Be quick about it."

"Ah! I understand that there is no money in the house. I will borrow some of Henri."

Madame Wtorkowska thanked Heaven that had given her so practical a daughter.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

THE INSURGENTS.

"H----, July, 1863.

"The Russians had scarcely vacated the village when the insurgents arrived. They marched through the streets, bearing a banner on which the national colours were surmounted by a white eagle painted on wood.

They were a small band of men, armed for the most part with scythes and pike-staffs, while some had only heavy sticks with pointed iron ends.

There were no uniforms. Each one was equipped and clad as circ.u.mstances had permitted at the time of his enrolment. Their forms were strong, and their faces expressed energy already clouded by dark despair. All knew that they were marching to certain death, and knew not what torture or misery awaited them.

"The body of Ivas had been cut down after the execution, but the gibbet still presented its gloomy front to the market-place. The chief of the insurgents saluted it, and inclined his head, and all his troop followed his example. It was a mute and solemn homage rendered to a martyr.

"I could not help feeling for these men a sentiment in which was mingled compa.s.sion, sympathy, and respect.

"The young commander recognized me, for he had seen me with Ivas at Warsaw. He was much affected to hear from me that the condemned man had been our mutual friend. 'One of our bravest,' murmured he; 'but our country demands such sacrifices. Oh, if only we were better armed!'

"Our conversation was not of long duration. The detachment had entered the village only to recruit, and succeeded in gaining a dozen volunteers. They also found some guns and swords, dating from 1831, covered with rust.

"This heroism in poverty transported me back several centuries to the times when the Israelites rose against Roman oppression. Here was the same self-sacrificing spirit, the same love of liberty. My eyes filled with tears, and thoughts came into my head that I had not before entertained.

"Let us go with them, thought I. Let us die in the ranks of these heroes. It is glorious to shed one's blood for his brothers.

"Yesterday I would have hesitated. To-day I felt around me such an empty void that the future appeared aimless, and the thought of action inspired me. I, who had refused money for the revolution, I would offer my life. This seems strange, does it not? But do not condemn me without reflection. It is necessary to seal the act of alliance, contracted between the Israelites and Poles. My example will prove that this alliance is accomplished.

"This letter, friend of my youth, is like my last testament.

"I recommend to you my mother. Let my brother Israelites know why I have taken this step. I owe to the mission that we have received from G.o.d to return again to the past of an elect people. This mission is, to be more n.o.ble, more devout, and more loving than other men.

"Farewell! You already know all I wish to say, for you have always been the confidante of my inmost thoughts. It is you who have inspired me with the resolution I have taken. If you had left me the shadow of a hope, I would, perhaps, have valued my life more; but you said one evening that a woman ought to be the wife of one man only, and as at the same time my brother Israelites have refused to listen to my voice, I am convinced that I am useless here below.

"Do not regret me. G.o.d will give me grace to meet death joyfully.

"To-morrow we leave here. I am well equipped. I have bought a horse and arms; I shall serve as a private soldier, for there are already too many leaders.

"G.o.d is great; the soul is immortal, and pure spirits may, perhaps, meet again in another world."

The reader has already divined that this was a letter addressed by Jacob to Mathilde. We have suppressed the commencement, which related to events spoken of in the preceding pages.

Henri Segel received it in his mail, and hastened to take it to his wife.

"What can it be?" asked he.

"A letter from Jacob," she replied, without hesitation, recognizing his writing.

She read it hastily.

"What has become of him," asked Henri again.

"He has joined the insurrection."

"Ah, it wanted only that! He has done us a great injury. The government will imagine that we are all more or less implicated in his folly. But is the thing certain?"

"There is no doubt whatever," and Mathilde read with a trembling voice a pa.s.sage from the letter. The husband seeing her so agitated left her, and himself became thoughtful and gloomy.

The news spread from mouth to mouth over the city. Some refused to believe it, while others rejoiced at it. Jacob had no warm friends, and few were sorry for him.

The same evening Sofronof went in triumph to Muse.

"Well! He has joined the insurgents, this man that you accused me of suspecting without motive!"

"You jest. Was he not the enemy of the revolution?"

"Yet he has enlisted under their banner. The Poles are all the same.

The sight of their eaglet always has an irresistible attraction for them."

"It is nothing to me," replied Muse; "but I will not believe it without more ample information."

Just then Henri Segel arrived and confirmed the news. He had a dejected air, and was careful not to speak of the letter the colonel had had in his hand that morning. He well knew that all suspicious letters were read before the distribution of the post.

Mathilde's father also was much chagrined on hearing the news. Without deep feeling, he had, nevertheless, a certain affection for his cousin.

Perhaps, also, he counted on him for restoring to health his daughter, whom he saw daily fade before his eyes. Without saying anything, he hastened to Mathilde at the hour when he was sure to find her alone.

The servant said to him that she was ill, and had given orders to admit no one; but the father, using his authority, went straight to her bedroom. He found her with disordered hair, eyes red with weeping, and cheeks burning with fever. Mathilde was no longer the marble statue, cold, resigned, impa.s.sable, inert.

At the sight of an unexpected visitor she blushed with the timidity of a child. But her education had inculcated a respect, almost a veneration, for her father, who had repelled all familiarity, all confidence; she tried, with a forced smile, to conceal the violence of her grief.

"I pity Jacob," said the father abruptly. "He courts his ruin; I wish to save him."

"But how can you?" asked the daughter.

Samuel did not reply immediately. He took several steps about the room.

It cost him something to be, for the first time in his life, frank with his child. Suddenly he stopped before her, and, looking at her fixedly, said:--