Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER LXVI.
"If any one should importune me to give a reason why I loved him, Ifeel it could no otherwise be expressed than by making answer,'Because it was he, because it was I.' There is, beyond what I am ableto say, I know not what inexplicable power that brought on thisunion."--MONTAIGNE: _On Friendship_.
The time had come to prepare Mordecai for the revelation of the restoredsister and for the change of abode which was desirable before Mirah'smeeting with her brother. Mrs. Meyrick, to whom Deronda had confidedeverything except Mordecai's peculiar relation to himself, had been activein helping him to find a suitable lodging in Brompton, not many minutes'walk from her own house, so that the brother and sister would be withinreach of her motherly care. Her happy mixture of Scottish fervor andGallic liveliness had enabled her to keep the secret close from the girlsas well as from Hans, any betrayal to them being likely to reach Mirah insome way that would raise an agitating suspicion, and spoil the importantopening of that work which was to secure her independence, as we ratherarbitrarily call one of the more arduous and dignified forms of ourdependence. And both Mrs. Meyrick and Deronda had more reasons than theycould have expressed for desiring that Mirah should be able to maintainherself. Perhaps "the little mother" was rather helped in her secrecy bysome dubiousness in her sentiment about the remarkable brother describedto her; and certainly if she felt any joy and anticipatory admiration, itwas due to her faith in Deronda's judgment. The consumption was asorrowful fact that appealed to her tenderness; but how was she to be veryglad of an enthusiasm which, to tell the truth, she could only contemplateas Jewish pertinacity, and as rather an undesirable introduction amongthem all of a man whose conversation would not be more modern andencouraging than that of Scott's Covenanters? Her mind was anything butprosaic, and had her soberer share of Mab's delight in the romance ofMirah's story and of her abode with them; but the romantic or unusual inreal life requires some adaptation. We sit up at night to read aboutSakya-Mouni, St. Francis, or Oliver Cromwell; but whether we should beglad for any one at all like them to call on us the next morning, stillmore, to reveal himself as a new relation, is quite another affair.Besides, Mrs. Meyrick had hoped, as her children did, that the intensityof Mirah's feeling about Judaism would slowly subside, and be merged inthe gradually deepening current of loving interchange with her newfriends. In fact, her secret favorite continuation of the romance had beenno discovery of Jewish relations, but something much more favorable to thehopes she discerned in Hans. And now--here was a brother who would dipMirah's mind over again in the deepest dye of Jewish sentiment. She couldnot help saying to Deronda--
"I am as glad as you are that the pawnbroker is not her brother: there areEzras and Ezras in the world; and really it is a comfort to think that allJews are not like those shopkeepers who _will not_ let you get out oftheir shops: and besides, what he said to you about his mother and sistermakes me bless him. I am sure he's good. But I never did like anythingfanatical. I suppose I heard a little too much preaching in my youth andlost my palate for it."
"I don't think you will find that Mordecai obtrudes any preaching," saidDeronda. "He is not what I should call fanatical. I call a man fanaticalwhen his enthusiasm is narrow and hoodwinked, so that he has no sense ofproportions, and becomes unjust and unsympathetic to men who are out ofhis own track. Mordecai is an enthusiast; I should like to keep that wordfor the highest order of minds--those who care supremely for grand andgeneral benefits to mankind. He is not a strictly orthodox Jew, and isfull of allowances for others; his conformity in many things is anallowance for the condition of other Jews. The people he lives with are asfond of him as possible, and they can't in the least understand hisideas."
"Oh, well, I can live up to the level of the pawnbroker's mother, and likehim for what I see to be good in him; and for what I don't see the meritsof I will take your word. According to your definition, I suppose onemight be fanatical in worshipping common-sense; for my poor husband usedto say the world would be a poor place if there were nothing but common-sense in it. However, Mirah's brother will have good bedding--that I havetaken care of; and I shall have this extra window pasted up with paper toprevent draughts." (The conversation was taking place in the destinedlodging.) "It is a comfort to think that the people of the house are nostrangers to me--no hypocritical harpies. And when the children know, weshall be able to make the rooms much prettier."
"The next stage of the affair is to tell all to Mordecai, and get him tomove--which may be a more difficult business," said Deronda.
"And will you tell Mirah before I say anything to the children?" said Mrs.Meyrick. But Deronda hesitated, and she went on in a tone of persuasivedeliberation--"No, I think not. Let me tell Hans and the girls the eveningbefore, and they will be away the next morning?"
"Yes, that will be best. But do justice to my account of Mordecai--orEzra, as I suppose Mirah will wish to call him: don't assist theirimagination by referring to Habakkuk Mucklewrath," said Deronda, smiling--Mrs. Meyrick herself having used the comparison of the Covenanters.
"Trust me, trust me," said the little mother. "I shall have to persuadethem so hard to be glad, that I shall convert myself. When I am frightenedI find it a good thing to have somebody to be angry with for not beingbrave: it warms the blood."
Deronda might have been more argumentative or persuasive about the view tobe taken of Mirah's brother, if he had been less anxiously preoccupiedwith the more important task immediately before him, which he desired toacquit himself of without wounding the Cohens. Mordecai, by a memorableanswer, had made it evident that he would be keenly alive to anyinadvertance in relation to their feelings. In the interval, he had beenmeeting Mordecai at the _Hand and Banner_, but now after due reflection hewrote to him saying that he had particular reasons for wishing to see himin his own home the next evening, and would beg to sit with him in hisworkroom for an hour, if the Cohens would not regard it as an intrusion.He would call with the understanding that if there were any objection,Mordecai would accompany him elsewhere. Deronda hoped in this way tocreate a little expectation that would have a preparatory effect.
He was received with the usual friendliness, some additional costume inthe women and children, and in all the elders a slight air of wonderingwhich even in Cohen was not allowed to pass the bounds of silence--theguest's transactions with Mordecai being a sort of mystery which he wasrather proud to think lay outside the sphere of light which enclosed hisown understanding. But when Deronda said, "I suppose Mordecai is at homeand expecting me," Jacob, who had profited by the family remarks, went upto his knee and said, "What do you want to talk to Mordecai about?"
"Something that is very interesting to him," said Deronda, pinching thelad's ear, "but that you can't understand."
"Can you say this?" said Jacob, immediately giving forth a string of hisrote-learned Hebrew verses with a wonderful mixture of the throaty and thenasal, and nodding his small head at his hearer, with a sense of givingformidable evidence which might rather alter their mutual position.
"No, really," said Deronda, keeping grave; "I can't say anything like it."
"I thought not," said Jacob, performing a dance of triumph with his smallscarlet legs, while he took various objects out of the deep pockets of hisknickerbockers and returned them thither, as a slight hint of hisresources; after which, running to the door of the workroom, he opened itwide, set his back against it, and said, "Mordecai, here's the youngswell"--a copying of his father's phrase, which seemed to him well fittedto cap the recitation of Hebrew.
He was called back with hushes by mother and grandmother, and Deronda,entering and closing the door behind him, saw that a bit of carpet hadbeen laid down, a chair placed, and the fire and lights attended to, insign of the Cohens' respect. As Mordecai rose to greet him, Deronda wasstruck with the air of solemn expectation in his face, such as would haveseemed perfectly natural if his letter had declared that some revelationwas to be made about the lost sister. Neither of them spoke, till Deronda,with his usual tenderness of manner, had drawn the vacant chair from theopposite side of the hearth and had seated himself near to Mordecai, whothen said, in a tone of fervid certainty--
"You are coming to tell me something that my soul longs for."
"It is true I have something very weighty to tell you--something I trustthat you will rejoice in," said Deronda, on his guard against theprobability that Mordecai had been preparing himself for something quitedifferent from the fact.
"It is all revealed--it is made clear to you," said Mordecai, moreeagerly, leaning forward with clasped hands. "You are even as my brotherthat sucked the breasts of my mother--the heritage is yours--there is nodoubt to divide us."
"I have learned nothing new about myself," said Deronda. Thedisappointment was inevitable: it was better not to let the feeling bestrained longer in a mistaken hope.
Mordecai sank back in his chair, unable for the moment to care what wasreally coming. The whole day his mind had been in a state of tensiontoward one fulfillment. The reaction was sickening and he closed his eyes.
"Except," Deronda went on gently, after a pause,--"except that I hadreally some time ago come into another sort of hidden connection with you,besides what you have spoken of as existing in your own feeling."
The eyes were not opened, but there was a fluttering in the lids.
"I had made the acquaintance of one in whom you are interested."
"One who is closely related to your departed mother," Deronda went onwishing to make the disclosure gradual; but noticing a shrinking movementin Mordecai, he added--"whom she and you held dear above all others."
Mordecai, with a sudden start, laid a spasmodic grasp on Deronda's wrist;there was a great terror in him. And Deronda divined it. A tremor wasperceptible in his clear tones as he said--
"What was prayed for has come to pass: Mirah has been delivered fromevil."
Mordecai's grasp relaxed a little, but he was panting with a tearless sob.
Deronda went on: "Your sister is worthy of the mother you honored."
He waited there, and Mordecai, throwing himself backward in his chair,again closed his eyes, uttering himself almost inaudibly for some minutesin Hebrew, and then subsiding into a happy-looking silence. Deronda,watching the expression in his uplifted face, could have imagined that hewas speaking with some beloved object: there was a new suffused sweetness,something like that on the faces of the beautiful dead. For the first timeDeronda thought he discerned a family resemblance to Mirah.
Presently when Mordecai was ready to listen, the rest was told. But inaccounting for Mirah's flight he made the statement about the father'sconduct as vague as he could, and threw the emphasis on her yearning tocome to England as the place where she might find her mother. Also he keptback the fact of Mirah's intention to drown herself, and his own part inrescuing her; merely describing the home she had found with friends ofhis, whose interest in her and efforts for her he had shared. What hedwelt on finally was Mirah's feeling about her mother and brother; and inrelation to this he tried to give every detail.
"It was in search of them," said Deronda, smiling, "that I turned intothis house: the name Ezra Cohen was just then the most interesting name inthe world to me. I confess I had fear for a long while. Perhaps you willforgive me now for having asked you that question about the elder Mrs.Cohen's daughter. I cared very much what I should find Mirah's friends tobe. But I had found a brother worthy of her when I knew that her Ezra wasdisguised under the name of Mordecai."
"Mordecai is really my name--Ezra Mordecai Cohen."
"Is there any kinship between this family and yours?" said Deronda.
"Only the kinship of Israel. My soul clings to these people, who havesheltered me and given me succor out of the affection that abides inJewish hearts, as sweet odor in things long crushed and hidden from theouter air. It is good for me to bear with their ignorance and be bound tothem in gratitude, that I may keep in mind the spiritual poverty of theJewish million, and not put impatient knowledge in the stead of lovingwisdom."
"But you don't feel bound to continue with them now there is a closer tieto draw you?" said Deronda, not without fear that he might find anobstacle to overcome. "It seems to me right now--is it not?--that youshould live with your sister; and I have prepared a home to take you to inthe neighborhood of her friends, that she may join you there. Pray grantme this wish. It will enable me to be with you often in the hours whenMirah is obliged to leave you. That is my selfish reason. But the chiefreason is, that Mirah will desire to watch over you, and that you ought togive her the guardianship of a brother's presence. You shall have booksabout you. I shall want to learn of you, and to take you out to see theriver and trees. And you will have the rest and comfort that you will bemore and more in need of--nay, that I need for you. This is the claim Imake on you, now that we have found each other."
Deronda spoke in a tone of earnest, affectionate pleading, such as hemight have used to a venerated elder brother. Mordecai's eyes were fixedon him with a listening contemplation, and he was silent for a littlewhile after Deronda had ceased to speak. Then he said, with an almostreproachful emphasis--
"And you would have me hold it doubtful whether you were born a Jew! Havewe not from the first touched each other with invisible fibres--have wenot quivered together like the leaves from a common stem with stirringfrom a common root? I know what I am outwardly, I am one among the crowdof poor--I am stricken, I am dying. But our souls know each other. Theygazed in silence as those who have long been parted and meet again, butwhen they found voice they were assured, and all their speech isunderstanding. The life of Israel is in your veins."
Deronda sat perfectly still, but felt his face tingling. It was impossibleeither to deny or assent. He waited, hoping that Mordecai would presentlygive him a more direct answer. And after a pause of meditation he did say.firmly--
"What you wish of me I will do. And our mother--may the blessing of theEternal be with her in our souls!--would have wished it too. I will acceptwhat your loving kindness has prepared, and Mirah's home shall be mine."He paused a moment, and then added in a more melancholy tone, "But I shallgrieve to part from these parents and the little ones. You must tell them,for my heart would fail me."
"I felt that you would want me to tell them. Shall we go now at once?"said Deronda, much relieved by this unwavering compliance.
When they entered the parlor he said to the alert Jacob, "Ask your fatherto come, and tell Sarah to mind the shop. My friend has something to say,"he continued, turning to the elder Mrs. Cohen. It seemed part ofMordecai's eccentricity that he should call this gentleman his friend; andthe two women tried to show their better manners by warm politeness inbegging Deronda to seat himself in the best place.
When Cohen entered with a pen behind his ear, he rubbed his hands and saidwith loud satisfaction, "Well, sir! I'm glad you're doing us the honor tojoin our family party again. We are pretty comfortable, I think."
He looked round with shiny gladness. And when all were seated on thehearth the scene was worth peeping in upon: on one side Baby under herscarlet quilt in the corner being rocked by the young mother, and AdelaideRebekah seated on the grandmother's knee; on the other, Jacob between hisfather's legs; while the two markedly different figures of Deronda andMordecai were in the middle--Mordecai a little backward in the shade,anxious to conceal his agitated susceptibility to what was going on aroundhim. The chief light came from the fire, which brought out the rich coloron a depth of shadow, and seemed to turn into speech the dark gems of eyesthat looked at each other kindly.
"I have just been telling Mordecai of an event that makes a great changein his life," Deronda began, "but I hope you will agree with me that it isa joyful one. Since he thinks of you as his best friends, he wishes me totell you for him at once."
"Relations with money, sir?" burst in Cohen, feeling a power of divinationwhich it was a pity to nullify by waiting for the fact.
"No; not exactly," said Deronda, smiling. "But a very precious relationwishes to be reunited to him--a very good and lovely young sister, whowill care for his comfort in every way."
"Married, sir?"
"No, not married."
"But with a maintenance?"
"With talents which will secure her a maintenance. A home is alreadyprovided for Mordecai."
There was silence for a moment or two before the grandmother said in awailing tone--
"Well, well! and so you're going away from us, Mordecai."
"And where there's no children as there is here," said the mother,catching the wail.
"No Jacob, and no Adelaide, and no Eugenie!" wailed the grandmother again.
"Ay, ay, Jacob's learning 'ill all wear out of him. He must go to school.It'll be hard times for Jacob," said Cohen, in a tone of decision.
In the wide-open ears of Jacob his father's words sounded like a doom,giving an awful finish to the dirge-like effect of the whole announcement.His face had been gathering a wondering incredulous sorrow at the notionof Mordecai's going away: he was unable to imagine the change as anythinglasting; but at the mention of "hard times for Jacob" there was no furthersuspense of feeling, and he broke forth in loud lamentation. AdelaideRebekah always cried when her brother cried, and now began to howl withastonishing suddenness, whereupon baby awaking contributed angry screams,and required to be taken out of the cradle. A great deal of hushing wasnecessary, and Mordecai feeling the cries pierce him, put out his arms toJacob, who in the midst of his tears and sobs was turning his head rightand left for general observation. His father, who had been--saying, "Nevermind, old man; you shall go to the riders," now released him, and he wentto Mordecai, who clasped him, and laid his cheek on the little black headwithout speaking. But Cohen, sensible that the master of the family mustmake some apology for all this weakness, and that the occasion called fora speech, addressed Deronda with some elevation of pitch, squaring hiselbows and resting a hand on each knee:--
"It's not as we're the people to grudge anybody's good luck, sir, or theportion of their cup being made fuller, as I may say. I'm not an enviousman, and if anybody offered to set up Mordecai in a shop of my sort twodoors lower down, _I_ shouldn't make wry faces about it. I'm not one ofthem that had need have a poor opinion of themselves, and be frightened atanybody else getting a chance. If I'm offal, let a wise man come and tellme, for I've never heard it yet. And in point of business, I'm not a classof goods to be in danger. If anybody takes to rolling me, I can packmyself up like a caterpillar, and find my feet when I'm let alone. Andthough, as I may say, you're taking some of our good works from us, whichis property bearing interest, I'm not saying but we can afford that,though my mother and my wife had the good will to wish and do for Mordecaito the last; and a Jew must not be like a servant who works for reward--though I see nothing against a reward if I can get it. And as to the extraoutlay in schooling, I'm neither poor nor greedy--I wouldn't hang myselffor sixpence, nor half a crown neither. But the truth of it is, the womenand children are fond of Mordecai. You may partly see how it is, sir, byyour own sense. A Jewish man is bound to thank God, day by day, that hewas not made a woman; but a woman has to thank God that He has made heraccording to His will. And we all know what He has made her--a child-bearing, tender-hearted thing is the woman of our people. Her children aremostly stout, as I think you'll say Addy's are, and she's not mushy, buther heart is tender. So you must excuse present company, sir, for notbeing glad all at once. And as to this young lady--for by what you say'young lady' is the proper term"--Cohen here threw some additionalemphasis into his look and tone--"we shall all be glad for Mordecai's sakeby-and-by, when we cast up our accounts and see where we are."
Before Deronda could summon any answer to this oddly mixed speech,Mordecai exclaimed--
"Friends, friends! For food and raiment and shelter I would not havesought better than you have given me. You have sweetened the morsel withlove; and what I thought of as a joy that would be left to me even in thelast months of my waning strength was to go on teaching the lad. But now Iam as one who had clad himself beforehand in his shroud, and used himselfto making the grave his bed, when the divine command sounded in his ears,'Arise, and go forth; the night is not yet come.' For no light matterwould I have turned away from your kindness to take another's. But it hasbeen taught us, as you know, that _the reward of one duty is the power tofulfill another_--so said Ben Azai. You have made your duty to one of thepoor among your brethren a joy to you and me; and your reward shall bethat you will not rest without the joy of like deeds in the time to come.And may not Jacob come and visit me?"
Mordecai had turned with this question to Deronda, who said--
"Surely that can be managed. It is no further than Brompton."
Jacob, who had been gradually calmed by the need to hear what was goingforward, began now to see some daylight on the future, the word "visit"having the lively charm of cakes and general relaxation at hisgrandfather's, the dealer in knives. He danced away from Mordecai, andtook up a station of survey in the middle of the hearth with his hands inhis knickerbockers.
"Well," said the grandmother, with a sigh of resignation, "I hope there'llbe nothing in the way of your getting _kosher_ meat, Mordecai. For you'llhave to trust to those you live with."
"That's all right, that's all right, you may be sure, mother," said Cohen,as if anxious to cut off inquiry on matters in which he was uncertain ofthe guest's position. "So, sir," he added, turning with a look of amusedenlightenment to Deronda, "it was better than learning you had to talk toMordecai about! I wondered to myself at the time. I thought somehow therewas a something."
"Mordecai will perhaps explain to you how it was that I was seeking him,"said Deronda, feeling that he had better go, and rising as he spoke.
It was agreed that he should come again and the final move be made on thenext day but one; but when he was going Mordecai begged to walk with himto the end of the street, and wrapped himself in coat and comforter. Itwas a March evening, and Deronda did not mean to let him go far, but heunderstood the wish to be outside the house with him in communicativesilence, after the exciting speech that had been filling the last hour. Noword was spoken until Deronda had proposed parting, when he said--
"Mirah would wish to thank the Cohens for their goodness. You would wishher to do so--to come and see them, would you not?"
Mordecai did not answer immediately, but at length said--
"I cannot tell. I fear not. There is a family sorrow, and the sight of mysister might be to them as the fresh bleeding of wounds. There is adaughter and sister who will never be restored as Mirah is. But who knowsthe pathways? We are all of us denying or fulfilling prayers--and men intheir careless deeds walk amidst invisible outstretched arms and pleadingsmade in vain. In my ears I have the prayers of generations past and tocome. My life is as nothing to me but the beginning of fulfilment. And yetI am only another prayer--which you will fulfil."
Deronda pressed his hand, and they parted.