“Ah, but you do not understand!” he said, in agitation. “To Ben Yetzel your admission is the peg on which to hang his revenge. He has hated me ever since I opposed his priestly tyranny, and now he has the power to ruin me. Shall I tell you the ultimatum he has given to Engelmacher concerning us? Believe me, dearest, it is as hard for me to say as it is for you to hear; but it is this: either I must resign my post—which means leaving Palestine in disgrace—or—or there must be a—divorce.”
He brought out the last word as though he could hardly get it to pass his lips. Patricia pressed her hands to her face in an agony of feeling.
“Oh, no! no! no!” she cried, in a passionate voice. “Not divorce! It is too dreadful! Anything but that! I will go away, to Germany, to England, anywhere in Europe; but you must remain my husband, and I your wife. Surely if we are separated for ever the Rabbi will be satisfied; surely he, a minister of God, is not so utterly wicked as to wish to break the most sacred bonds of our marriage. Let him part us so that we shall never meet again. In the sight of Heaven I shall always be your wife!”
Her self-control collapsed completely, and she gave vent to such sobs as seemed to come from the depths of her being. Montella took her in his arms, and endeavoured to comfort her with the assurance that the hated contingency should never occur. But he felt no less miserable in his way than she did in hers. He knew that their separation was inevitable, and that it might be indefinitely prolonged. He knew also that life in Palestine would be almost unendurable without Patricia at his side.
“Oh, darling, darling, what grief you have brought down upon us both!” he exclaimed, in anguish. “Truly did your Christ say, ‘I came not to send peace, but a sword!’ Is not that sword piercing your heart and mine? Cursed be all creeds which bring dissension and sorrow in their wake, which separate a husband from his wife, a mother from her child! How can I send you away—you whom I have sworn to protect and cherish? To know that you are lonely, and that I cannot comfort you; that you are ill, and I cannot sit beside you; that you want me, and I cannot come. Oh, Patricia, they have laid their finger on the weak spot in my manhood’s armour! I cannot bear to let you go away!”
She had never seen him so intensely moved. She dried her eyes with a feeling almost of awe, and in her desire to comfort him, recovered her own self-possession.
“We must both be brave, dearest,” she said, in a broken voice. “If it is necessary for us to part for a time, it will not last for ever—nothing lasts for ever. Don’t let us make it harder for each other than we can help. Let us try to think of the—the—happy reunion in the future.”
“The future? But when? So far as I know, I am settled in Haifa for life. If we part, it may be for years, for we do not know when we shall see each other again.” He paused, evidently struck by a new idea, and continued impulsively: “Patricia, why should we give up our happiness for the sake of people who do not care two straws whether we live or die? Why should I slave and toil and worry, only to be rewarded by base ingratitude? Resign my post! Well, why not? What is the governorship worth in comparison with you!”
He rose and paced the room with bent head and folded arms. It was his moment of weakness, and the girl knew it; but she could not help considering the alternative he suggested. If he left Palestine, they could go and live quietly somewhere on the Continent; he might even obtain permission to return to England. At least, it would be better than an indefinite separation; she did not care where she lived, so long as she were with him. But she knew that by so doing he would be guilty of forsaking his people and losing his honour, and that she would never forgive herself for having blighted his career.
“No, dearest; you must not abandon your post just when you are most needed,” she said, with a heavy sigh. “An Englishman must do his duty at the cost of life itself. I know you better than you think, Lionel. Life would not be worth living to you without your honour. Besides, it would break your mother’s heart; in her eyes, you are ever the dauntless champion of the Jews.”