chairs
were occupied by two or three elders. A younger man stood at the desk
beside the Reader. The service was already begun--it was, in fact,
half over.

Francesca observed next that all the men wore a kind of broad scarf,
made of some white stuff about eight feet long and four feet broad.
Bands of black or blue were worked in the ends, which were also provided
with fringes. "It is the Talleth," Nelly whispered. Even the boys wore
this white robe, the effect of which would have been very good but for
the modern hat, tall or pot, which spoiled all. Such a robe wants a
turban above it, not an English hat. The seats were ranged along the
synagogue east and west. The place was not full, but there were a good
many worshipers. The service was chanted by the Reader. It was a kind of
chant quite new and strange to Francesca. Like many young persons
brought up with no other religion than they can pick up for themselves,
she was curious and somewhat learned in the matter of ecclesiastical
music and ritual, which she approached, owing to her education, with
unbiased mind. She knew masses and anthems and hymns and chants of all
kinds; never had she heard anything of this kind before. It was not
congregational, or Gregorian; nor was it repeated by the choir from
side to side; nor was it a monotone with a drop at the end; nor was it a
florid, tuneful chant such as one may hear in some Anglican services.
This Reader, with a rich, strong voice, a baritone of great power, took
nearly the whole of the service--it must have been extremely
fatiguing--upon himself, chanting it from beginning to end. No doubt, as
he rendered the reading and the prayers, so they had been given by his
ancestors in Spain and Portugal generation after generation, back into
the times when they came over in Phoenician ships to the Carthaginian
colonies, even before the dispersion of the Ten Tribes. It was a
traditional chant of antiquity beyond record--not a monotonous chant.
Francesca knew nothing of the words; she grew tired of trying to make
out whereabouts on the page the Reader might be in the book lent her,
which had Hebrew on one side and English on the other. Besides, the man
attracted her--by his voice, by his energy, by his appearance. She
closed her book and surrendered herself to the influence of the voice
and the emotions which it expressed.

There was no music to help him. From time to time the men in the
congregation lifted up their voices--not