"Bring Nina home here and she will look after me."
"Go to bed, miss--at once, do you hear?"
Then Ruth went off to her bed, wondering at Nina"s choice, and declaring to herself, that if ever she took in hand a lover at all, he should be a lover very different from her uncle, Anton Trendellsohn.
CHAPTER V
The more Madame Zamenoy thought of the terrible tidings which had reached her, the more determined did she become to prevent the degradation of the connection with which she was threatened. She declared to her husband and son that all Prague were already talking of the horror, forgetting, perhaps, that any knowledge which Prague had on the subject must have come from herself. She had, indeed, consulted various persons on the subject in the strictest confidence. We have already seen that she had told Lotta Luxa and her son, and she had, of course, complained frequently on the matter to her husband. She had unbosomed herself to one or two trusty female friends who lived near her, and she had applied for advice and a.s.sistance to two priests.
To Father Jerome she had gone as Nina"s confessor, and she had also applied to the reverend pastor who had the charge of her own little peccadilloes. The small amount of a.s.sistance which her clerical allies offered to her had surprised her very much. She had, indeed, gone so far as to declare to Lotta that she was shocked by their indifference.
Her own confessor had simply told her that the matter was in the hands of Father Jerome, as far as it could be said to belong to the Church at all; and had satisfied his conscience by advising his dear friend to use all the resources which female persecution put at her command. "You will frighten her out of it, Madame Zamenoy, if you go the right way about it," said the priest. Madame Zamenoy was well inclined to go the right way about it, if she only knew how. She would make Nina"s life a burden to her if she could only get hold of the girl, and would scruple at no threats as to this world or the next. But she thought that her priest ought to have done more for her in such a crisis than simply giving her such ordinary counsel. Things were not as they used to be, she knew; but there was even yet something of the prestige of power left to the Church, and there were convents with locks and bars, and excommunication might still be made terrible, and public opinion, in the shape of outside persecution, might, as Madame Zamenoy thought, have been brought to bear. Nor did she get much more comfort from Father Jerome. His reliance was placed chiefly on operations to be carried on with the Jew; and, failing them, on the opposition which the Jew would experience among his own people. "They think more of it than we do," said Father Jerome.
"How can that be, Father Jerome?"
"Well, they do. He would lose caste among all his friends by such a marriage, and would, I think, destroy all his influence among them.
When he perceives this more fully he will be shy enough about it himself. Besides, what is he to get?"
"He will get nothing."
"He will think better of it. And you might manage something with those deeds. Of course he should have them sooner or later, but they might be surrendered as the price of his giving her up. I should say it might be managed."
All this was not comfortable for Madame Zamenoy; and she fretted and fumed till her husband had no peace in his house, and Ziska almost wished that he might hear no more of the Jew and his betrothal. She could not even commence her system of persecution, as Nina did not go near her, and had already told Lotta Luxa that she must decline to discuss the question of her marriage any further. So, at last, Madame Zamenoy found herself obliged to go over in person to the house in the Kleinseite. Such visits had for many years been very rare with her.
Since her sister"s death and the days in which the Balatkas had been prosperous, she had preferred that all intercourse between the two families should take place at her own house; and thus, as Josef Balatka himself rarely left his own door, she had not seen him for more than two years. Frequent intercourse, however, had been maintained, and aunt Sophie knew very well how things were going on in the Kleinseite. Lotta had no compunctions as to visiting the house, and Lotta"s eyes were very sharp. And Nina had been frequently in the Windberg-ga.s.se, having hitherto believed it to be her duty to attend to her aunt"s behests.
But Nina was no longer obedient, and Madame Zamenoy was compelled to go herself to her brother-in-law, unless she was disposed to leave the Balatkas absolutely to their fate. Let her do what she would, Nina must be her niece, and therefore she would yet make a struggle.
On this occasion Madame Zamenoy walked on foot, thinking that her carriage and horses might be too conspicuous at the arched gate in the little square. The carriage did not often make its way over the bridge into the Kleinseite, being used chiefly among the suburbs of the New Town, where it was now well known and quickly recognised; and she did not think that this was a good opportunity for breaking into new ground with her equipage. She summoned Lotta to attend her, and after her one o"clock dinner took her umbrella in her hand and went forth.
She was a stout woman, probably not more than forty-five years of age, but a little heavy, perhaps from too much indulgence with her carriage.
She walked slowly, therefore; and Lotta, who was nimble of foot and quick in all her ways, thanked her stars that it did not suit her mistress to walk often through the city.
"How very long the bridge is, Lotta!" said Madame Zamenoy.
"Not longer, ma"am, than it always has been," said Lotta, pertly.
"Of course it is not longer than it always has been; I know that; but still I say it is very long. Bridges are not so long in other places."
"Not where the rivers are narrower," said Lotta. Madame Zamenoy trudged on, finding that she could get no comfort from her servant, and at last reached Balatka"s door. Lotta, who was familiar with the place, entered the house first, and her mistress followed her. Hanging about the broad pa.s.sage which communicated with all the rooms on the ground-floor, they found Souchey, who told them that his master was in bed, and that Nina was at work by his bedside. He was sent in to announce the grand arrival, and when Madame Zamenoy entered the sitting-room Nina was there to meet her.
"Child," she said, "I have come to see your father."
"Father is in bed, but you can come in," said Nina.
"Of course I can go in," said Madame Zamenoy, "but before I go in let me know this. Has he heard of the disgrace which you purpose to bring upon him?"
Nina drew herself up and made no answer; whereupon Lotta spoke. "The old gentleman knows all about it, ma"am, as well as you do."
"Lotta, let the child speak for herself. Nina, have you had the audacity to tell your father--that which you told me?"
"I have told him everything," said Nina; "will you come into his room?"
Then Madame Zamenoy lifted up the hem of her garment and stepped proudly into the old man"s chamber.
By this time Balatka knew what was about to befall him, and was making himself ready for the visit. He was well aware that he should be sorely perplexed as to what he should say in the coming interview. He could not speak lightly of such an evil as this marriage with a Jew; nor when his sister-in-law should abuse the Jews could he dare to defend them.
But neither could he bring himself to say evil words of Nina, or to hear evil words spoken of her without making some attempt to screen her. It might be best, perhaps, to lie under the bed-clothes and say nothing, if only his sister-in-law would allow him to lie there. "Am I to come in with you, aunt Sophie?" said Nina. "Yes child," said the aunt; "come and hear what I have to say to your father." So Nina followed her aunt, and Lotta and Souchey were left in the sitting-room.
"And how are you, Souchey?" said Lotta, with unusual kindness of tone.
"I suppose you are not so busy but you can stay with me a few minutes while she is in there?"
"There is not so much to do that I cannot spare the time," said Souchey.
"Nothing to do, I suppose, and less to get?" said Lotta.
"That"s about it, Lotta; but you wouldn"t have had me leave them?"
"A man has to look after himself in the world; but you were always easy-minded, Souchey."
"I don"t know about being so easy-minded. I know what would make me easy-minded enough."
"You"ll have to be servant to a Jew now."
"No; I"ll never be that."
"I suppose he gives you something at odd times?"
"Who? Trendellsohn? I never saw the colour of his money yet, and do not wish to see it."
"But he comes here--sometimes?"
"Never, Lotta. I haven"t seen Anton Trendellsohn within the doors these six months."
"But she goes to him?"
"Yes; she goes to him."
"That"s worse--a deal worse."
"I told her how it was when I saw her trotting off so often to the Jews" quarter. "You see too much of Anton Trendellsohn," I said to her; but it didn"t do any good."
"You should have come to us, and have told us."
"What, Madame there? I could never have brought myself to that; she is so upsetting, Lotta."
"She is upsetting, no doubt; but she don"t upset me. Why didn"t you tell me, Souchey?"
"Well, I thought that if I said a word to her, perhaps that would be enough. Who could believe that she would throw herself at once into a Jew"s arms--such a fellow as Anton Trendellsohn, too, old enough to be her father, and she the bonniest girl in all Prague?"
"Handsome is that handsome does, Souchey."