hildren cry for bread while over their roofs the wind calls
'Tax--tax.'"

"It was not so in the days of our fathers," Grandmother Rachael
muttered, beating her palms slowly together.

"Her heart is not without Israel's hope of the coming of the King even
though her lips make much muttering," Sara said, as Jael turned to the
aged woman who again wailed:

"It was not so in the days of our fathers."

"Nay, nor will it ever be so in the days of our fathers' sons," he
answered her. "Was it for this that Israel was called to be God's
chosen people--this--that they should toil and starve and be spit upon
by heathen dogs? That they should till the soil and be robbed of the
increase that Herod might buy gold platters in which to serve good Jew
heads to dancing harlots? It hath been and ever will be among men
struggling for bread, as among dogs fighting over a carcass that the
strong shall overcome the weak. But our fathers every fifty years took
back the land from the strong and gave it again to the toiler that he
might have a new start. So shall it be."

While he had been speaking he had dropped the leather curtain hanging
at the door. Sara lit a lamp.

"And when shall come again the days of our fathers?" Grandmother
Rachael asked.

"When we rise up and wrest from the oppressor our stolen inheritance."

"Aye, but, my Jael, hast thou forgotten the Gaulonite?" Sara asked.
"Did he not with two thousand followers rise up to take back the land?
And were not his followers hanged on two thousand crosses until the
wild dogs of Palestine broke their fast on Jewish flesh?"

Jael had grown excited as Sara questioned him. He paced the floor.
"Yea," he answered, "yea, did wild dogs feast on Jewish flesh, even the
flesh of thy Jael's father! Forget not shall I until the stone of my
father's tomb be rolled against my bones, how he was hung where two
roads meet! Forget will I--nor forgive. And in the time of Israel's
revenge will my own hands spill blood to settle the debt."

"Sh- sh- sh-" warned Sara. "Methought I saw the curtain move. Fear
even now doth catch my heart in its pinching fingers."

"Fear not, my fair Sara," Jael said. "Could harm befall thee with
Jael, the fisherman, nigh? Look thou at the strength of my arm and the
keen edge of my tough fishing knife!" and he held forth his shining
blade.

"Not for myself do I feel fear, but for thee. Thy life would not be
worth a farthing were thy fierce words hea