It was strange to hear this echo of one of the lying cries of the Judenhetze in this remote corner of an African Desert.
“You must wait and ask my brother,” repeated Max.
“Yes; they are a wicked lot in their religion,” continued Old Schalk. “Fancy a religion that forbids one to eat pork and teaches you to eat children—not their own children, oh no, but Christian children that they steal in the streets of the big towns, and then fatten up for the Passover!”
“But, uncle, I don’t think they do so any more,” said Susannah, moved by the pain in Max’s face. “It was long ago that they used to do that.”
“What does a girl like you know about such things? Did we not read about it in the book which Uncle Sarel lent us, and didn’t Jan Roster say it was quite true, and that they caught the Jews doing it in Russia the other day? Why, even Max cannot say it isn’t true.”
“I—I never heard of it,” faltered Max.
“Never heard of it?” said Mrs Hattingh in low but indignant tones. “What a dreadful thing to be so ignorant of one’s own religion!”
Max went home slightly consoled in his humiliation by another gentle pressure from the hand of Susannah at parting. But some of the bloom had already been rubbed off the blossom which had unfolded in such radiant fairness only a few hours before. He could see that Susannah’s secret had been surprised from her, and that opposition and danger loomed ahead. He anticipated that Nathan would make his life a burthen, would torture him with coarse allusions and unpleasant jokes. This he was prepared for, and the prospect was a sickening one. The future was heavily clouded, and behind the clouds visible he foreboded others. But “the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” His love was sure, and he knew it to be returned. Sleep knit up the ravelled fabric of his happiness, and memories of the new bliss he had tasted haunted his dreams.
The next morning brought trouble. Shortly after breakfast Max saw, to his dismay, three members of the Hattingh family labouring heavily across the sand towards the shop. Mrs Hattingh was in the centre—she leant heavily on the arms of her granddaughters. As the three entered the shop, the two girls looked at Max with an expression of indescribable slyness. Max groaned in spirit; Nathan had given him strict injunctions that on no account whatever were any members of the Hattingh family to get any more credit. He knew instinctively that this was what they had now come to ask for.
Mrs Hattingh sat down heavily upon a packing-case, panting from the exertions of her walk. Maria and Petronella lifted the flap of the counter quite unceremoniously and walked in. Then they began to pull down the goods from the shelves and examine them. Mrs Hattingh beckoned to Max to come to her. In a low tone and with meaning looks she told him that she wanted to buy some material for a dress for Susannah. Max knew this to be a lie, but he did not dare to show his knowledge. She eventually selected enough material for two dresses; but, from the number of yards ordered, Max could see that his attachment was being used for the purpose of providing the two large specimens of young womanhood present with frocks which they badly needed. Other articles were selected by the girls, who kept darting meaning looks at him and uttering whispered hints about their cousin. When they left, carrying several large parcels, the Hattingh account had been increased on the debit side by upwards of two pounds sterling, and the fact pressed like an indigestion upon the already laden breast of poor Max.