Zamenoy, a wealthy Christian merchant of Prague, and had drifted into a partnership with Trendell sohn. How this had come to pass needs not to be told here, as it had all occurred in years when Nina was an infant. But in these shiftings Balatka became a ruined man, and at the time of which I write he and his daughter were almost penniless. The reader must know that Karil Zamenoy and Josef Balatka had married sisters. Josef's wife, Nina's mother, had long been dead, having died-so said Sophie Zamenoy, her sister-of a broken heart; of a heart that had broken itself in grief, because her husband had joined his fortunes with those of a Jew. Whether the disgrace of the alliance or its disastrous result may have broken the lady's heart, or whether she may have died of a pleurisy, as the doctors said, we need not inquire here. Her soul had been long at rest, and her spirit, we may hope, had ceased to fret itself in horror at contact with a Jew. But Sophie Zamenoy was alive and strong, and could still hate a Jew as intensely as Jews ever were hated in those earlier days in which hatred could satisfy itself with persecution. In her time but little power was left to Madame Zamenoy to persecute the Trendellsohns other than that which nature had given to her in the bitterness of her tongue. She could revile them behind their back, or, if opportunity offered, to their faces; and both she had done often, telling the world of Prague that the Trendellsohns had killed her sister, and robbed her foolish brother-in-law. But hitherto the full vial of her wrath had not been emptied, as it came to be emptied afterwards; for she had not yet learned the mad iniquity of her niece. But at the moment of which I now speak, Nina herself knew her own iniquity, hardly knowing, however, whether her love did or did not disgrace her. But she did know that any thought as to that was too late. She loved the man, and had told him so; and were he gipsy as well as Jew, it would be required of her that she should go out with him into the wilderness. And Nina Balatka was prepared to go out into the wilderness. Karil Zamenoy and his wife were prosperous people, and lived in a comfortable modern house in the New Town. It stood in a straight street, and at the back of the house there ran another straight street. This part of the city is very little like that old Prague, which may not be so comfortable, but which, of all cities on the earth, is surely the most picturesque. Here lived Sophie Zamenoy; and so far up in the world had she mounted, that she had a coach of her own in which to be drawn about the thoroughfares of Prague and its suburbs, and a stout little pair of Bohemian horsesponies they were called by those who wished to detract somewhat from Madame Zamenoy's position. Madame Zamenoy had been at Paris, and took much delight in telling her friends that the carriage also was Parisian; but, in truth, it had come no further than from Dresden. Josef Balatka and his daughter were very, very poor; but, poor as they were, they lived in a large house, which, at least nominally, belonged to old Balatka himself, and which had been his residence in the days of his better fortunes. was in the Kleinseite, that narrow portion of the town which lies on the other side of the river Moldau— the further side, that is, from the so-called Old and New Town, on the western side of the river, immediately under the great hill of the Hradschin. The Old Town and the New Town are thus on one side of the river, and the Kleinseite and the Hradschin on the other. To those who know Prague, it need not here be explained that the streets of the Kleinseite are wonderful in their picturesque architecture, wonderful in their lights and shades, wonderful in their strange mixture of shops It -- and palaces-and now, alas! also of sheen of the night, and Nina would Austrian barracks - and wonderful stand in the gloom of the archway in their intricacy and great steep- counting them till they would seem ness of ascent. Balatka's house to be uncountable, and wondering stood in a small courtyard near to what might be the thoughts of those the river, but altogether hidden who abode there. But those who from it, somewhat to the right of abode there were few in number, the main street of the Kleinseite as and their thoughts were hardly you pass over the bridge. A lane, worthy of Nina's speculation. The for it is little more, turning from windows of kings' palaces look out the main street between the side- from many chambers. The windows walls of what were once two palaces, of the Hradschin look out, as we comes suddenly into a small square, are told, from a thousand. But the and from a corner of this square rooms within have seldom many there is an open stone archway tenants, nor the tenants, perhaps, leading into a court. In this court many thoughts. Chamber after is the door, or doors, as I may say, chamber, you shall pass through of the house in which Balatka lived them by the score, and know by with his daughter Nina. Opposite signs unconsciously recognised that to these two doors was the blind there is not, and never has been, wall of another residence. Balatka's true habitation within them. Winhouse occupied two sides of the dows almost innumerable are there, court, and no other window, there- that they may be seen from the fore, besides his own looked either outside-and such is the use of upon it or upon him. The aspect palaces. But Nina, as she would of the place is such as to strike look, would people the rooms with with wonder a stranger to Prague, throngs of bright inhabitants, and that in the heart of so large a city would think of the joys of happy there should be an abode so seques- girls who were loved by Christian tered, so isolated, so desolate, and youths, and who could dare to tell yet so close to the thickest throng their friends of their love. But of life. But there are others such, Nina Balatka was no coward, and perhaps many others such, in Prague; she had already determined that and Nina Balatka, who had been she would at once tell her love to born there, thought nothing of the those who had a right to know in quaintness of her abode. Immedi- what way she intended to dispose of ately over the little square stood herself. As to her father, if only he the palace of the Hradschin, the could have been alone in the matwide-spreading residence of the old ter, she would have had some hope kings of Bohemia, now the habita- of a compromise which would have tion of an ex-emperor of the House made it not absolutely necessary of Hapsburg, who must surely find that she should separate herself the thousand chambers of the royal from him forever in giving herself mansion all too wide a retreat for to Anton Trendellsohn. Josef the use of his old age. So immedi- Balatka would doubtless express ately did the imperial hill tower horror, and would feel shame that over the spot on which Balatka his daughter should love a Jewlived, that it would seem at night, though he had not scrupled to when the moon was shining as it allow Nina to go frequently among shines only at Prague, that the these people, and to use her sercolonnades of the palace were the vices with them for staving off the upper storeys of some enormous ill consequences of his own idleness edifice, of which the broken mer- and ill-fortune; but he was a meek, chant's small courtyard formed a broken man, and was So accuslower portion. The long rows of tomed to yield to Nina that at last windows would glimmer in the be might have yielded to her even in this. There was, however, that the Windberg Gasse, and dare and Madame Zamenoy, her aunt-her endure all that the Zamenoys could aunt with the bitter tongue; and say or do. She knew, or thought there was Ziska Zamenoy, her cousin she knew, that persecution could -her rich and handsome cousin, not go now beyond the work of the who would so soon declare himself tongue. No priest could immure willing to become more than cousin, her No law could touch her beif Nina would but give him one cause she was minded to marry a nod of encouragement, or half a Jew. Even the people in these smile of welcome. But Nina hated days were mild and forbearing in her Christian lover, cousin though their usages with the Jews, and he was, as warmly as she loved the she thought that the girls of the Jew. Nina, indeed, loved none of Kleinseite would not tear her clothes the Zamenoys-neither her cousin from her back even when they knew Ziska, nor her very Christian aunt of her love. One thing, however, Sophie with the bitter tongue, was certain. Though every rag nor her prosperous, money-loving, should be torn from her though acutely mercantile uncle Karil; but, some priest might have special nevertheless, she was in some de- power given him to persecute her gree so subject to them, that she though the Zamenoys in their knew that she was bound to tell wrath should be able to crush herthem what path in life she meant even though her own father should to tread. Madame Zamenoy had refuse to see her, she would be true offered to take her niece to the to the Jew. Love to her should prosperous house in the Wind- be so sacred that no other sacredberg Gasse when the old house in ness should be able to touch its the Kleinseite had become poor and sanctity. She had thought much desolate; and though this generous of love, but had never loved before. offer had been most fatuously de. Now she loved, and, heart and soul, clined-most wickedly declined, as she belonged to him to whom she aunt Sophie used to declare- had devoted herself. Whatever nevertheless other favours had been suffering might be before her, vouchsafed; and other favours had though it were suffering unto been accepted, with sore injury to death, she would endure it if her Nina's pride. As she thought of lover demanded such endurance. this, standing in the gloom of the Hitherto, there was but one person evening under the archway, she remembered that the very frock she wore had been sent to her by her aunt. But in spite of the bitter tongue, and in spite of Ziska's deand servant-of-allrision, she would tell her tale, and work; or perhaps it would be more would tell it soon. She knew her true to say that he and Nina between own courage and trusted it; and, them did all that the requirements dreadful as the hour would be, of the house demanded. Souchey she would not put it off by for that was his name--was very one moment. As soon as Anton faithful, but with his fidelity had should desire her to declare come a want of reverence towards her purpose, she would declare his master and mistress, and an abit; and as he who stands sence of all respectful demeanour. on a precipice, contemplating the The enjoyment of this apparent expediency of throwing himself independence by Souchey himself from the rock, will feel himself went far, perhaps, in lieu of wages. gradually seized by a mad desire to "Nina, he said to her one do the deed out of hand at once, so morning, "you are seeing too much did Nina feel anxious to walk off to of Anton Trendellsohn." who suspected her. In her father's house there still remained an old dependant, who, though he was a man, was cook and housemaid, and washerwoman "What do you mean by that, Souchey?" said the girl, sharply. "You are seeing too much of Anton Trendellsolin," repeated the old man. "I have to see him on father's account. You know that. You know that, Souchey, and you shouldn't say such things." "You are seeing too much of Anton Trendellsohn," said Souchey for a third time. "Anton Trendellsohn is a Jew." Then Nina knew that Souchey had read her secret, and was sure that it would spread from him through Lotta Luxa, her aunt's confidential maid, up to her aunt's ears. Not that Souchey would be untrue to her on behalf of Madame Zamenoy, whom he hated; but that he would think himself bound by his religious duty-he who never went near priest or mass himself-to save his mistress from the perils of the Jew. The story of her love must be told, and Nina preferred to tell it herself to having it told for her by her servant Souchey. She must see Anton. When the evening therefore had come, and there was sufficient dusk upon the bridge to allow of her passing over without observation, she put her old cloak upon her shoulders, with the hood drawn over her head, and, crossing the river, turned to the left and made her way through the narrow, crooked streets which led to the Jews' quarter. She knew the path well, and could have found it with blindfold eyes. In the middle of that close and densely populated region of Prague, stands the old Jewish synagogue-the oldest place of worship belonging to the Jews in Europe, as they delight to tell you; and in a pinched-up, high-gabled house immediately behind the synagogue, at the corner of two streets, each so narrow as hardly to admit a vehicle, dwelt the Trendellsohns. On the basement floor there had once been a shop. There was no shop now, for the Trendellsohns were rich, and no longer dealt in It retail matters; but there had been no care, or perhaps no ambition, at work, to alter the appearance of their residence, and the old shutters were upon the window, making the house look as though it were deserted. There was a highpitched sharp roof over the gable, which, as the building stood alone fronting upon the synagogue, made it so remarkable, that all who knew Prague well, knew the house in which the Trendellsohns lived. Nina had often wished, as in latter days she had entered it, that it was less remarkable, so that she might have gone in and out with smaller risk of observation. was now the beginning of September, and the clocks of the town had just struck eight as Nina put her hand on the lock of the Jew's door. As usual it was not bolted, and she was able to enter without waiting in the street for a servant to come to her. She went at once along the narrow passage and up the gloomy wooden stairs, at the foot of which there hung a small lamp, giving just light enough to expel the actual blackness of night. On the first landing Nina knocked at a door, and was desired to enter by a soft female voice. The only occupant of the room when she entered was a dark-haired child, some twelve years old perhaps, but small in stature and delicate, and, as appeared to the eye, almost wan. "Well, Ruth, dear," said Nina, "is Anton at home this evening?" "He is up-stairs with grandfather, Nina. Shall I tell him?" "If you will, dear," said Nina, stooping down and kissing her. "Nice Nina, dear Nina, good Nina," said the girl, rubbing her glossy curls against her friend's cheeks. "Ah, dear, how I wish you lived here." "But I have a father as you have a grandfather, Ruth." "And he is a Christian." "But you like us, and are good, and nice, and dear-and oh, Nina, you are so beautiful! I wish you were one of us and lived here. There is Miriam Harter-her hair is as light as yours, and her eyes are as grey." "What has that to do with it?" "Only I am so dark, and most of us are dark here in Prague. Anton says that away in Palestine our girls are as fair as the girls in Saxony." "And does not Anton like girls to be dark?" "Anton likes fair hair-such as yours-and bright grey eyes such as you have got. I said they were green, and he pulled my ears. But now I look, Nina, I think they are green. And so bright! I can see my own in them, though it is so dark. That is what they call look ing babies." "Go to your uncle, Ruth, and tell him that I want him-on business." "I will, and he'll come to you. He won't let me come down again, so kiss me, Nina; good-bye." Nina kissed the child again, and then was left alone in the room. It was a comfortable chamber, having in it sofas and arm-chairs much more comfortable, Nina used to think, than her aunt's grand drawing-room in the Windberg Gasse, which was covered all over with a carpet, after the fashion of drawing-rooms in Paris; but the Jew's sitting-room was dark, with walls painted a gloomy green colour, and there was but one small lamp of oil upon the table. But yet Nina loved the room, and, as she sat there waiting for her lover, she wished that it had been her lot to have been born a Jewess. Only, had that been so, her hair might perhaps have been black, and her eyes dark, and Anton would not have liked her. She put her hand up for a moment to her rich brown tresses, and felt them as she took joy in thinking that Anton Trendellsohn loved to look upon fair beauty. After a short while Anton Trendellsohn came down. To those who know the outward types of his race there could be no doubt that Anton Trendellsohn was a very Jew among Jews. He was certainly a handsome man, not now very young, having reached some year certainly in advance of thirty, and his face was full of intellect. He was slightly made, below the middle height, but was well made in every limb, with small feet and hands, and small ears, and a well-turned neck. He was very dark-dark as a man can be, and yet show no sign of colour in his blood. No white man could be more dark and swarthy than Anton Tredellsohn. His eyes, however, which were quite black, were very bright. His jet-black hair, as it clustered round his ears, had in it something of a curl. Had it been allowed to grow it would almost have hung in ringlets; but it was worn very short, as though its owner were jealous even of the curl. Anton Trendellsohn was decidedly a handsome man; but his eyes were somewhat too close together in his face, and the bridge of his aquiline nose was not sharply cut, as is mostly the case with such a nose on a Christian face. The olive oval face was without doubt the face of a Jew, and the mouth was greedy, and the teeth were perfect and bright, and the movement of the man's body was the movement of a Jew. But not the less on that account had he behaved with Chris, tian forbearance to his Christian debtor, Josef Balatka, and with Christian chivalry to Balatka's daughter, till that chivalry had turned itself into love. "Nina," he said, putting out his hand, and holding hers as he spoke "I hardly expected you this even ing; but I am glad to see you-very glad." "I hope I am not troubling you, Anton ?"" "How can you trouble me? The sun does not trouble us when we want light and heat.” "Can I give you light and heat?" |