Then, looking him fairly in the face and returning the strong grasp of his hands, she added: "If my sense of duty were not sufficiently strong, my gratitude to my noble friend and protector would prompt me so to act, and so to speak.
"Dion, we have been, though of hostile blood, too much to each other during these terrible days to doubt that we are led by the same hand of Providence. I cannot see His will. I must not prejudge it. I can only act upon each duty that I see, and as I see it. But this much is plain to me—and you will not mistake my meaning, good friend—I can have no such interests as other women may feel while my people are enslaved. To this I have vowed before my nation's God. The redemption of Israel from the hand of him whom you by your soldier's oath have vowed to serve, that fills my heart. That is my only sentiment; my only passion; but it is a passion of fire. All else must burn away before it."
"But," replied Dion, speaking very slowly, as if to hear the echo of each word from the depth of her heart before venturing another, and watching her eyes for indication, as boys watch the ripples their pebbles make when dropped into a well, "if—I—were—a—Jew it might be otherwise? You could love me if I were only a Jew? Deborah, I am a Jew in my faith—since you have taught me that faith. I am a soldier of fortune, and have sold my sword to the lord of Antioch, but I would willingly give it to your people, were it not that I foresee the hopelessness of your cause. But with your love I could die for Judaism."
"Noble Dion, these words are ill-considered. The leopard cannot change his spots, as says our Scripture; nor can a Greek become a Jew. And surely not so light a thing as a passing fancy for a Jewish girl should lead you to think to attain the impossible."
"But if—I—were a Jew?" queried he. "If you will tell me that if Dion were a Jew you could love him, that will be my happiness even as we part."
"If Dion were a Jew," replied Deborah, "he were worthy of being brother to the sons of Mattathias, and worthy the love of any woman." With which words she ran from the room.
Captain Dion stood looking at—nothing, while the sand ran half out of the glass.
"Am I a Jew or a Greek? I am surely a Jew inwardly, and," glancing into a polished steel mirror, "my nose is not, as I have often heard it said, as a good Greek's should be, perfectly straight with my forehead. By Jove! I could wish that a sabre cut might bend it more. But, Greek though I am, my sword and my wit are my own, and shall have but one duty when Gorgias takes the city—to guard this house and the woman who—would—love—me—if—I—were—a—Jew. So much is clear, clear as the Jew's law. Let me see if I can be a Jew. First 'to do justly.' Yes, it will be only downright justice to give my life for hers, since she has offered hers for mine more than once. Secondly, 'to love mercy.' Of course I do—in this case. Thirdly, 'to walk humbly with my God.' Well, if I knew who God is, I would. God of Jew or Greek teach me that! Amen!"