“Well,” said the man, slowly and after a pause, “you can come in; but I cannot let you remain but a few moments.”
Aleph promptly stepped in as the door opened; and, while the man was closing and fastening it, made his way to the room he had before visited. As before, the air was close and almost stifling. As before, the woman lay on the bed, in about the same death-like state. And, as before, Rachel sat behind her, supporting her head and caressing it with her hand—her own face a picture of lovely distress. A man at a table was, apparently, preparing some medicines. He was not a bad looking man, save as a certain pretentious and stubborn look is a bad one on a face somewhat stony and unsympathetic. One would say that his sympathy with his patients would not be likely to interfere with his health or his meals. His whole bearing seemed to say, “I am a leech, and I understand my business;” and yet his dress was too poor to suggest the idea of a prosperous business. All this the observant eye of the young man took in at a glance.
Rachel looked up. A look of glad recognition sprang into every feature, but especially into her welcoming eyes. They smiled on him through tears. He bowed profoundly in acknowledgment of the silent greeting; and, advancing to her, said in a low voice, “From your grandfather.” Facing about on the husband, who had closely followed him, he put a piece of gold in his hand, saying as he did so, “For the sick woman.”
Then turning to the leech, he said in a courteous tone:
“I think I am speaking to the physician in charge of this patient. If so, will he allow me a few words, with him in private? Perhaps we can step out into this little court for a few moments”—and he at once quietly moved to the door leading to the back court, opened it, and passed out without looking behind him—passed to the farther side of the inclosure, as if sure of being followed. He was followed, though with some backwardness.
“I wish,” said Aleph, as he turned and confronted the leech, “to confer with you about this poor woman. I come from some of her friends. Perhaps you know who these friends are?”
“Is not her husband a friend?”
“He certainly ought to be. As to whether he is, I have my doubts. At all events he is not one of the friends of whom I speak and from whom I come. Do you know who that young lady yonder is?”
“The daughter of Alexander, the great Jewish Banker.”
“Do you know who Seti is?”