“I do not see much use in that,” interrupted the gentleman, who, no lawyer, did not quite comprehend technicalities; “I should think my oath as to his person quite enough to free him. I did not appear on his trial, simply because I was abroad, and only heard of it through a friend sending me a newspaper and the particulars of the case—a friend of his wishing the man’s innocence to be proved. He wrote to me, knowing that either I or some one belonging to me had employed a watcher that night, and vague as the tale was, I might help to clear it; this, however, is nothing to the purpose. If the robbery you speak of was committed at Epping on the 14th of May, just about three o’clock in the morning, that man, Isaac Levison, is as innocent as I am; for I can take my oath as to seeing and speaking with him that very morning, at that very hour, in the burial-ground of our people at Mile End. I particularly remarked him, as he was not the person I had engaged. There is no justice in England if you do not let him go—he is innocent!”
“Innocent—innocent—innocent! My child, you are right; there is a God, and a God of love! Blessed—blessed—forgiven!” He bounded from the detaining arms of Reuben and the turnkey, clasped Sarah to his heart with strange unnatural strength, and fell back a corpse!
CHAPTER V.
A small, but most comfortably-furnished parlour of a new, respectable-looking dwelling, in one of the best streets of Liverpool, is the scene to which we must conduct our readers about two years after the conclusion of our last chapter. The furniture all looked new, except a kind of antique silver lamp, which stood on an oaken bracket opposite the window. It was a room thrown out from the usual back of the house, opening by a large French window and one or two steps into a small but beautifully laid-out flower garden, divided by a passage and another parlour from the handsome shop which opened on the street. It was a silversmith and watchmaker’s, with the words “Perez Brothers,” in large but not showy characters, over the door. The shop seemed much frequented, there was a constant ingress and egress of respectable people; but there was no bustle, nothing going wrong, all seemed quietness and regularity; orders received and questions answered, and often articles of particularly skilful workmanship displayed with that gentle courtesy and good feeling which can spring but from the heart.
But we are forgetting—it is the parlour and not the shop with which we have to do. The room and its furniture may be strangers to us—perhaps one of the inmates—but not the other. The still infirm and aged, but the thrice-blessed, thrice-happy mother was still spared to bless God for the prosperity, the well-doing, and the unchanging faith and piety of her beloved children. Simeon’s wish was fulfilled—his mother was restored to her former station, nay, raised higher in the scale of society than she had ever been; but meek in prosperity as faithful in adversity, there was no change in that widowed heart, save, if possible, yet deeper love and gratitude to God. And a beautiful picture might that gentle face have made, bending down with such a smile of caressing love on the lovely infant of nearly three years, who had clambered on her knee, and was folding its little round arms about her neck. It was a touching contrast of age and infancy, for Rachel looked much older than she really was, but there was nothing sad in it. The unusual loveliness of the child cannot be passed unnoticed: the snowy skin, the rich golden curls, just touched with that chesnut which takes away all insipidity from fairness, might have proclaimed her not a child of Israel; but then there was the large, lustrous black eye and its long fringe, the subdued, soul-speaking beauty of the other features—that was Israel’s, and Israel’s alone! Full of life and joyousness, her infant prattle amused her grandmother, till at the closing, about six in the evening, her son Simeon joined her. We should perhaps have said that an elderly Jewess, remarkably clean and tidy in her person, had very often entered the parlour to see, she said, if the dear widow were comfortable or wanted anything, or little Jeanie were troublesome, etc. It was old Esther, who fulfilling all sorts of offices in the family, acting companion and nurse to the widow and Jeanie, cleaning silver—in which she was very expert—seeing to the cooking of the dinner, and taking care of the lad’s clothes, delighted herself, and more than satisfied those with whom she lived.
To satisfy our readers’ curiosity, as to how this great change in the widow’s condition had been brought about, we will briefly narrate its origin. When Reuben’s year of probation was over, and he felt he was a Jew in heart and soul and reason, as well as name, he returned to Liverpool, to delight his mother with the change. He was met with love and with rejoicing, no reference was made to the past, and between himself and Simeon not a shadow of estrangement remained. The latter had at first hung back, feeling self-reproached that he had wronged his brother; but Reuben’s truly noble nature conquered these feelings, and soon after bound him to him with the ties of gratitude as well as love. Simeon’s talent for modelling in silver was now as marked as his dislike to that trade, which despite of disinclination, he had perseveringly followed. Reuben, on the contrary, retained all his father’s instructions in watch-making, and had determined, when he returned to Liverpool, to set up that business which, from the excellent capital he had amassed and laid by, was not difficult to accomplish. He had determined on this plan, feeling as if he thus tacitly acknowledged and followed his lamented father’s wishes, and atoned to him, even in death, for former disregard. He, of course, wished to associate Simeon in the business; but as the young man’s desires and talents seemed pointed otherwise, he placed him for a year with a first-rate silversmith in London. Morris, Simeon’s late master, had given up business, and this in itself was a capital opening for Reuben. He made use of it, and flourished. In less than eighteen months after his return to Liverpool, “Perez Brothers” opened their new shop as silversmiths and watchmakers, and from the careful, economical, and strictly honourable way in which the business was carried on—the name, too, with the associations of the honest hard-working man of whom these were the sons, adding golden weight—a very few months trial proved that industry, economy, and honesty must carry their own reward.
But why was the widow alone? Was not Reuben married, and should not Sarah have been with her? Gentle reader, Reuben is not yet married; he has now gone to fetch his Sarah, for the term of probation for both is over. The morrow is the thirteenth birthday of the twins; and the widow is expecting the return of Reuben and Sarah and Ruth, as she sits with her darling Jeanie in her little parlour, the evening we meet her again.
Levison’s innocence and his sudden death had, of course, been made public, not only in an official way, but through the eagerness of Reuben that not a shadow of shame should ever approach his Sarah. When the first month of mourning had expired, Sarah returned to her situation; her mistress quite forgetting former anger, and ready to declare Sarah had only done just as she ought towards her poor innocent father; that she was a pattern of Jewish daughters, and poured forth a volume of praises, all in the joy of getting her back.
Reuben had been anxious for their marriage as soon as he had completed two years from poor Jeanie Wilson’s early death. Sarah fully sympathised in his feelings towards Jeanie, and they would often talk of her as a being dear to and cherished by them both. When the two years were completed, the marriage was still delayed, Mrs. Corea entreating Sarah to remain with her till she went on the Continent with her daughters, which she intended to do in about six or eight months. She had been too indulgent a mistress, and Miss Leon too sincere a friend, for Sarah to hesitate a moment in postponing her own happiness. Besides, the delay, though Reuben did not like it, might be beneficial to him in allowing him time to get settled in his business. Before the period elapsed, Sarah and Reuben too were rejoiced that she was still in London, for Ruth needed her; the wherefore we shall find presently.