"He is good; he is handsome. I fear he loves me."
"You know not anything. If you choose a husband, or even a shoe, by their appearance, both may pinch you, my dear. Judah is of good stock.
Of a good tree you may expect good fruit."
"Bram Van Heemskirk is also the son of a good father. Many times you have said it."
"Yes, I have said it. But Bram is not of our people. And if our law forbid us to sow different seeds at the same time in the same ground, or to graft one kind of fruit-tree on the stock of another, shall we dare to mingle ourselves with people alien in race and faith, and speech and customs? My dear, will you take your own way, or will you obey the word of the Lord?"
"My way cannot stand before His way."
"It is a hard thing for you, my dear. Your way is sweet to you. Offer it as a sacrifice; bind the sacrifice, even with cords, to the altar, if it be necessary. I mean, say to Bram Van Heemskirk words that you cannot unsay. Then there will be only one sorrow. It is hope and fear, and fear and hope, that make the heart sick. Be kind, and slay hope at once, my dear."
"If Judah had been my own choice, father"--
"_Choice?_ My dear, when did you get wisdom? Do not parents choose for their children their food, dress, friends, and teachers? What folly to do these things, and then leave them in the most serious question of life to their own wisdom, or want of wisdom! Choice! Remember Van Heemskirk"s daughter, and the sin and suffering her own choice caused."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Make me not to remember the past"]
"I think it was not her fault if two men quarrelled and fought about her."
"She was not wholly innocent. Miriam, make me not to remember the past.
My eyes are old now; they should not weep any more. I have drunk my cup of sorrow to the lees. O Miriam, Miriam, do not fill it again!"
"G.o.d forbid! My father, I will keep the promise that I made you. I will do all that you wish."
Cohen bowed his head solemnly, and remained for some minutes afterward motionless. His eyes were closed, his face was as still as a painted face. Whether he was praying or remembering, Miriam knew not. But solitude is the first cry of the wounded heart, and she went away into it. She was like a child that had been smitten, and whom there was none to comfort. But she never thought of disputing her grandfather"s word, or of opposing his will. Often before he had been obliged to give her some bitter cup, or some disappointment; but her good had always been the end in view. She had perfect faith in his love and wisdom. But she suffered very much; though she bore it with that uncomplaining patience which is so characteristic of the child heart--a patience pathetic in its resignation, and sublime in its obedience.
And it was during this hour of trial to Miriam that Joris was talking to Lysbet of her. It did him good to put his fears into words, for Lysbet"s a.s.surances were comfortable; and as it had been a day full of feeling, he was weary and went earlier to his room than usual. On the contrary, Lysbet was very wakeful. She carried her sewing to the candle, and sat down for an hour"s work. The house was oppressively still; and she could not help remembering the days when it had been so different,--when Anna and Cornelia had been marriageable women, and Joanna and Katherine growing girls. All of them had now gone away from her. Only Bram was left, and she thought of him with great anxiety. Such a marriage as his father had hinted at filled her with alarm. She could neither conquer her prejudices nor put away her fears; and she tormented herself with imagining, in the event of such a misfortune, all the disagreeable and disapproving things the members of the Middle Kirk would have to say.
In the midst of her reflections, Bram returned. She had not expected him so early, but the sound of his feet was pleasant. He came in slowly; and, after some pottering, irritating delays, he pushed his father"s chair back from the light, and with a heavy sigh sat down in it.
"Why sigh you so heavy, Bram? Every sigh still lower sinks the heart."
"A light heart I shall never have again, mother."
"You talk some foolishness. A young man like you! A quarrel with your sweetheart, is it? Well, it will be over as quick as a rainy day. Then the sunshine again."
"For me there is no hope like that. So quiet and shy was my love."
"Oh, indeed! Of all the coquettes, the quiet, shy ones are the worst."
"No coquette is Miriam Cohen. My love life is at the end, mother."
"When began it, Bram?"
"It was at the time of the duel. I loved her from the first moment. O mother, mother!"
"Does she not love you, Bram?"
"I think so: many sweet hours we have had together. My heart was full of hope."
"Her faith, Bram, should have kept you prudent."
""In what church do you pray?" Love asks not such a question, and as for her race, I thought a daughter of Israel is the beloved of all the daughters of G.o.d. A blessing to my house she will bring."
"That is not what the world says, Bram. No, my son. It is thus, and like it: that G.o.d is angry with His people, and for that He has scattered them through all the nations of the earth."
"Such folly is that! To colonize, to "take possession" of the whole earth, is what the men of Israel have always intended. Long before the Christ was born in Bethlehem, the Jews were scattered throughout every known country. I will say that to the dominie. It is the truth, and he cannot deny it."
"But surely G.o.d is angry with them."
"I see it not. If once He was angry, long ago He has forgiven His people. "To the third and fourth generation" only is His anger. His own limit that is. Who have such blessings? The gold and the wine and the fruit of all lands are theirs. Their increase comes when all others"
fail. G.o.d is not angry with them. The light of His smile is on the face of Miriam. He teaches her father how to traffic and to prosper. Do not the Holy Scriptures say that the blessing, not the anger, of the Lord maketh rich?"
"Well, then, my son, all this is little to the purpose, if she will not have thee for her husband. But be not easy to lose thy heart. Try once more."
"Useless it would be. Miriam is not one of those who say "no" and then "yes.""
"Nearly two years you have known her. That was long to keep you in hope and doubt. I think she is a coquette."
"You know her not, mother. Very few words of love have I dared to say.
We have been friends. I was happy to stand in the store and talk to Cohen, and watch her. A glance from her eyes, a pleasant word, was enough. I feared to lose all by asking too much."
"Then, why did you ask her to-night? It would have been better had your father spoken first to Mr. Cohen."
"I did not ask Miriam to-night. She spared me all she could. She was in the store as I pa.s.sed, and I went in. This is what she said to me, "Bram, dear Bram, I fear that you begin to love me, because I think of you very often. And my grandfather has just told me that I am promised to Judah Belasco, of London. In the summer he will come here, and I shall marry him." I wish, mother, you could have seen her leaning against the black _kas_; for between it and her black dress, her face was white as death, and beautiful and pitiful as an angel"s."
"What said you then?"
"Oh, I scarce know! But I told her how dearly I loved her, and I asked her to be my wife."
[Ill.u.s.tration: With a great sob Bram laid his head against her breast]
"And she said what to thee?"
""My father I must obey. Though he told me to slay myself, I must obey him. By the G.o.d of Israel, I have promised it often.""
"Was that all, Bram?"
"I asked her again and again. I said, "Only in this one thing, Miriam, and all our lives after it we will give to him." But she answered, "Obedience is better than sacrifice, Bram. That is what our law teaches.
Though I could give my father the wealth and the power of King Solomon, it would be worth less than my obedience." And for all my pleading, at the last it was the same, "I cannot do wrong; for many right deeds will not undo one wrong one." So she gave me her hands, and I kissed them,--my first and last kiss,--and I bade her farewell; for my hope is over--I know that."
"She is a good girl. I wish that you had won her, Bram." And Lysbet put down her work and went to her son"s side; and with a great sob Bram laid his head against her breast.
"As one whom his mother comforteth!" Oh, tender and wonderful consolation! It is the mother that turns the bitter waters of life into wine. Bram talked his sorrow over to his mother"s love and pity and sympathy; and when she parted with him, long after the midnight, she said cheerfully, "Thou hast a brave soul, _mijn zoon, mijn Bram_; and this trouble is not all for thy loss and grief. A sweet memory will this beautiful Miriam be as long as thou livest; and to have loved well a good woman will make thee always a better man for it."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Chapter heading]