CHAPTER II.
THE ACCUSERS.
he Jews living in the towns of Marocco occupy a walled quarter, separated by gates from the rest of the town; physically they are a fine race, many of them are very wealthy, and some of the best families show high breeding, but the cringing and servile habits, to which they are inured from infancy by oppression, have impressed their demeanour and physiognomy with timidity and cunning, and effaced in a great measure the higher and nobler feelings from their minds. There are partial exceptions to this, as in the case of some of their priests and men engaged in European trade, who are brought less into contact with their masters, and feel themselves under more protection. The separate quarter, although affording security in ordinary times, seems to enhance the danger to its inhabitants in time of trouble or insurrection, for the moment that the Sultan's authority is relaxed or in danger, the mob and the soldiery break loose; urged on by fanaticism and cupidity, the cry is, "To the Jews' quarter!" and the place is sacked, as by a foreign enemy. It is wonderful that men who can afford it, will submit to live with their families in this constant state of oppression and terror; but such is the force of habit and the love of gain,—for I can hardly place in the category the love of country,—that very few, or none, do leave it. It is true that the law does not permit them to leave the country, but they might easily escape or evade it.
The women, seldom leaving their houses, are less exposed to the degrading influences which lower the character of the men; their countenance is more open, and their bearing more independent; as a rule, they are good-looking, and their manners and address are graceful and ladylike. Although the prevailing colour of the race is Andalusian, there are not wanting many possessing the clear and brilliant complexion of northern climates, and even blue eyes are not uncommon.
In the Jewish quarter in Marocco, in a small house, distinguished only from those which surrounded it, by its cleanliness of exterior and neatness within, lived a Jewish matron with her only daughter; their appearance and manners showed them to have belonged to a higher station, though now reduced to the necessity of gaining a living by needle-work. The mother was the widow of a priest, who had been esteemed for his unostentatious charity, and who had bequeathed to his daughter little of worldly goods, but instead, a well-grounded faith in the Scriptural promises and a strong love for her ancestral religion. The child's personal beauty as she grew up was looked on by her parents—as it foolishly is by most parents—as a great blessing. How little did they foresee, while doating on her loveliness, that they were fostering serpents that would one day sting her to the soul, and prove her most fatal curse. She was now about eighteen, a vision of grace and beauty. Most descriptions of beauty have been failures, and I will not add another to them by attempting it, but to see Azora, after her morning occupation of reading the prophets, her perfect cheek resting on her perfect hand, her large dark eyes cast upward, her lovely parted lips partially revealing their translucent gems, while a glow of enthusiasm lighted up her beautiful features; the only epithet by which to describe her beauty is "heavenly." Her dress was an embroidered spencer of pink damask, over a shirt of striped muslin, whose ample sleeves nearly reached the ground, and a frock of dark green cloth edged with gold lace. A crimson Algerian scarf encircled her waist, and silver anklets and bracelets attracted admiration to the limbs they could not adorn. A light green silk handkerchief was bound round her forehead, the ends hanging loose behind, and confined her hair, which fell down her back in long broad plaits. Her mother's dress was of a similar description, but of different materials; and, instead of her hair, which their customs will not allow married women to show, she wore the flat brush of black ostrich feathers fastened on each side of the face, under the head-dress. She was engaged in arranging the cushions of the divan and their few articles of household equipment, preparatory to their morning meal, when Azora tripped joyously in with several garments she was in course of embroidering on her arm, and kissed her.
"My blessing on you, my rose of Paradise," said Rachel.
"May you be blessed, O my mother!" returned Azora; "and see how much work I have done. Is it not well done?" and her merry laugh rang out musical, as she nestled down by her mother.
"Yes," said her mother, "we shall soon have earned enough for a dowry worthy of your family, though your beauty is dowry for a queen!"
Suddenly the girl stood up in an attitude of terror; her eyes fixed, and her hand pressed to her forehead.