Then Abraham and his pack were had up to the bower, and large purchases made of Damascene and Cyprus stuffs. When he went away, Bruno walked with him across the yard, and as they clasped hands in farewell, suddenly asked him what he thought of the damsel Margaret.
“Can there be any question?” answered Abraham, pityingly. “Hath not Azrael (the Angel of Death) stamped her with his signet?”
“I fear so. Wilt thou pray for her, my father?”
Abraham looked up in amazement.
“A Christian ask the prayers of a Jew!” exclaimed he.
“Why not?” replied Bruno. “Were not Christ and all His apostles Jews? And thou art a good and true man, my father. The God of Israel heareth the prayers of the righteous.”
“Canst thou account a Jew righteous?—one who believes not in thy Messiah?”
“I am not so sure of that,” said Bruno, his eyes meeting those of Abraham in full. “I think thy heart and conscience are convinced, but thou art afraid to declare it.”
Abraham’s colour rose a little.
“May Adonai lead us both to His truth!” he replied.