“I cannot tell him that,” she said, addressing the doctor, but looking straight at the Rabbi. “I went to the church with the Princess—the first time for many years. I saw no harm in it, or I would not have gone. I did not think I was being watched.”
Montella beat an impatient tattoo on the table at his side.
“Absurd!” he exclaimed, with irritation. “Ben Yetzel has no right to send out spies. Besides, what harm has my wife done? Surely she can accompany her friend to church without all this fuss being made? She went simply on account of the Princess; she could scarcely have done otherwise, since she was on a visit to the hospice. Dr. and Mrs. Engelmacher know that Lady Patricia is a faithful Jewess and observes the Law.”
The Chief Rabbi understood English, although he seldom cared to speak it.
“A faithful Jewess bends not the knee in a Christian church,” he said. “Yussuf here sat just opposite her and saw her join in the prayers and hymns. The lady is not a Jewess, even though she does profess to keep the Holy Law. She is a Christian; and for the wife of the Governor of Haifa to be a Christian is a scandalous thing.”
“She is not a Christian!” denied Montella, with heat. “She renounced her Christianity before she became my wife. Ask her, and she will tell you; she does not believe in Christ.”
Again the appeal was made to the girl herself. Patricia felt the eyes of the room upon her, and the colour rushed to her cheeks. With beating heart she gazed almost piteously at her inexorable accusers. Oh, Lionel, most devoted of husbands, most foolish of men! Why had he put the question direct, with so much confidence in her unbelief? Neither sophistry nor prevarication would avail now; she must speak the truth, even though to utter the words might ruin her life’s happiness. But then—quick as a lightning flash the thought came—why give these people the satisfaction of victory? Why play into their hands, and witness the chagrin of her husband? Why not say no in public and yes in private. Ah, but she could not do that; she dare not again deny her faith.
“My husband does not know,” she said, in a stifled voice. “I did renounce Christianity before my marriage, and I have tried to keep the Jewish Law until this day, and intend still to do so as long as it is necessary. But while I have been in Jerusalem my religious views have undergone a change. The Chief Rabbi is unnecessarily harsh, but he is correct in his statement. I do believe in Christ. I believe in Him with all my heart and soul!”
Had a thunderbolt fallen, the silence which succeeded her avowal could not have been more pregnant with surprise. The Chief Rabbi’s expression lightened into one of triumph, and his satellites, taking their cue from him, looked about them with calm contempt. Dr. Engelmacher spread his hands deprecatingly, and gave vent to a shrug of the shoulders which was eloquent with meaning, whilst Montella—almost stunned by the unexpectedness of the dénouement—started to his feet in sorrow and amazement.
“Patricia!” he exclaimed, in a voice of poignant grief. “You don’t mean it—you, who have been so staunch and true ever since you became a Jewess. Oh, you don’t realise what you are saying, dearest. You have been carried away by the emotions called up by these historic scenes!”