Aaron the Jew: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

[WHAT SHALL BE DONE TO THE MAN WHOM THE KING DELIGHTETH TO HONOUR?]

On a bright morning in the autumn of the year 1893 a number of influential persons wended their way to Aaron Cohen's house to take part in a function of a peculiarly interesting nature. They comprised representatives of literature and the arts, of politics, science, and commerce, and among them were delegates of the press, who were deputed to report the proceedings for their respective journals. That the pen is mightier than the sword was open to dispute at an earlier period of the world's history, but the contention exists no longer, and though the day is far distant when the lion shall lie down with the lamb, the press is now a powerful factor in peace and war, and can effectually hasten or retard the conflict of nations. It is an open question whether its invasion of the arena of private life is a desirable feature in the power it wields; but it is useless to resist its march in this direction, and earnest as may be a man's desire to hide his light (or the reverse) under a bushel, he does not live to see it gratified. The up-to-date journalist, argus-eyed, overruns the earth; it is to be deplored that his quill is sometimes poison-tipped, but as a rule he sets about his work with good-humoured zest, and it is not to be denied that he prepares many a piquant dish for his omnivorous public.

When a movement was set afoot to make some sort of semi-private, semi-public recognition of the remarkable position attained by the hero of this story, he made an effort to discourage it. The idea of any kind of publicity was distasteful to him, and he expressed an opinion to this effect. It was not heeded by the organisers of the testimonial, and he was thinking of remonstrating in stronger terms, when the matter was settled for him by a few simple words spoken by Rachel.

"Why do you object?" she asked. "You did not seek the honour, and it will reflect honour upon us."

"Do you wish it, Rachel?"

"It will give me pleasure, dear," she replied.

He did not argue with her, but yielded immediately, and allowed himself to be carried with the stream. Never in the course of their happy married life had he failed to comply with her lightest wish; never had there been the least conflict between them; to each of them the word of the other was law, and it was love's cheerful duty to obey.

The esteem in which he was held was to be demonstrated by two presentations, one a portrait of himself by a famous English artist, the other a picture also, the subject being withheld from his knowledge. This second painting was no other than the picture of Rachel sitting beneath the cherry tree, which had created so much interest in the Paris salon more than a dozen years ago. It had originally been purchased by a collector, who had lately died. After his death his collection had been brought to the hammer, and this particular picture was purchased by a London dealer, who exhibited it in his shop. The first intention was to present a silver memorial with Aaron's portrait, but a friend of his happened to see the French picture in London, and was struck by the wonderful resemblance of the principal figure to Rachel. He made inquiries privately of Aaron respecting his sojourn in the south of France, and learned that there was a picturesque cherry tree in the grounds at the back of the house, in the shadow of which Rachel was in the habit of sitting in sunny weather, that he had a friend, the curé of the village, and that one summer a French painter had visited the village and had made a number of sketches of Rachel and the garden. Following up his inquiries, Aaron's friend obtained from the London dealer some information of the history of the picture and of the year in which it was exhibited, and, putting this and that together, he came to the conclusion that Rachel had unconsciously sat for the picture. It was an interesting discovery, and the first idea of a silver presentation was put aside, and the picture substituted in its place.

Mr. Moss, of course, came from Portsmouth to attend the function. Our old friend was frequently in London now, to attend to certain complicated business matters. Sad to say, of late years fortune had not smiled upon him; he had met with losses, but that did not prevent him from humming his operatic airs at every possible opportunity. He had himself to blame for this reverse of fortune; certainly he had a tremendously large family, sixteen children to rear and provide for, and eight of them girls--he used to say jocularly that it was difficult to find names for them; but he had a comfortable business, and should have been content. Unhappily, one day he had a bright idea; he made a plunge in stocks, with disastrous results. Had he consulted Aaron Cohen, as he afterwards confessed, it would never have happened; Aaron would have shown him the folly of expecting to grow rich in a week. The consequence was that he found himself involved, and his frequent visits to London were necessitated by his personal endeavours to reduce his losses. It made no difference in Aaron's friendship for him; it may be said, indeed, to have strengthened it. In a time of more than ordinary difficulty Aaron came forward voluntarily, and afforded practical assistance to his old friend. "If you want to know the kind of metal Aaron Cohen is made of," he said to his wife, "go to him when you are in misfortune. That is the time to prove a man." Another strengthening tie was to be forged in the firm friendship of these men. One at least of Mr. Moss's numerous daughters was always in London on a visit to Rachel, and it was quite in the natural order of things that Joseph Cohen should fall in love with Esther Moss, the prettiest and sweetest of all the girls. Rachel and her husband were very fond of Esther, and regarded the attachment with favour. Joseph was too young yet to marry, but with the consent of his parents an engagement was entered into between the young people, and there was joy in Mr. Moss's estimable family.

It was a natural consequence of this family arrangement that Esther was frequently invited to make her home for a time with the Cohens in London, and she was in their house on the day of the presentations. Her lover was absent, and had been out of England for some months past. Young as he was, he already held a position of responsibility in an extensive firm, and had been sent to Australia to attend to business of an important nature. He was expected home at the end of the week, but was then to remain in England only a few days, his passage to India being taken, his mission being to establish agencies in that land for the gentleman by whom he was employed. Years ago the choice of a classical education had been offered him by his father; but his inclination was for commerce, and Aaron Cohen did not believe in forcing a lad into a career which was distasteful to him. Upon his return from India eight or nine months hence the marriage between him and Esther was to take place. Needless to say how proud and happy the young maid was in the contemplation of the approaching union.