“Wife, dost thou not answer the Cohen?” said the elder man angrily.
“The Cohen can wait for his answer; the child cannot for his life. When I think him safe I will answer all you choose.”
At length, after careful feeding and drying, Countess laid down the spoon, and covered the child with a warm woollen coverlet.
“Sleep, my darling!” she said softly. “The God of Israel hush thee under His wings!”
A few moments of perfect quiet left no doubt that little Rudolph was sound asleep. Then Countess stood up, and turned to the Rabbi.
“Now, Cohen, I am ready. Ask me what you will.”
“Who and what is this child?”
“An exile, as we are. An orphan, cast on the great heart of the All-Merciful. A trust which was given to me, and I mean to fulfil it.”
“That depends on the leave of thy lord.”
“It depends on nothing of the sort. I sware to the dead father of this boy that I would protect him from all hurt.”