graves." The passion in her face matched his.
Her sweetness was exchanged for fire. She had the air of a Judith or a
Jael.

"It is our own cowardice that invites the spittle, Miriam. Where is
the spirit of the Maccabaeans whom we hymn on this feast of Chanukah?
The Pope issues Bulls, and we submit--outwardly. Our resistance is
silent, sinuous. He ordains yellow hats; we wear yellow hats, but
gradually the yellow darkens; it becomes orange, then ochre, till at
last we go capped in red like so many cardinals, provoking the edict
afresh. We are restricted to one synagogue. We have five for our
different country-folk, but we build them under one roof and call four
of them schools."

"Hush, thou Jew-hater," cried his mother. "Say not such things aloud.
My God! my God! how have I sinned before Thee?"

"What wouldst thou have, Joseph?" said Miriam. "One cannot argue with
wolves. We are so few--we must meet them by cunning."

"Ah, but we set up to be God's witnesses, Miriam. Our creed is naught
but prayer-mumbling and pious mummeries. The Christian Apostles went
through the world testifying. Better a brief heroism than this long
ignominy." He burst into sudden tears and sank into a chair
overwrought.

Instantly his mother was at his side, bending down, her wet face to
his.

"Thank Heaven! thank Heaven!" she sobbed. "The madness is over."

He did not answer her. He had no strength to argue more. There was a
long, strained silence. Presently the mother asked--

"And where didst thou find shelter for the night?"

"At the palace of Annibale de' Franchi."

Miriam started. "The father of the beautiful Helena de' Franchi?" she
asked.

"The same," said Joseph flushing.

"And how camest thou to find protection there, in so noble a house,
under the roof of a familiar of the Pope?"

"Did I not tell thee, mother, how I did some slight service to his
daughter at the last Carnival, when, adventuring herself masked among
the crowd in the Corso, she was nigh trampled upon by the buffaloes
stampeding from the race-course?"

"Nay, I remember naught thereof," said Rachel, shaking her head. "But
thou mindest me how these Christians make us race like the beasts."

He ignored the implied reproach.

"Signor de' Franchi would have done much for me," he went on. "But I
only begged the run of his great library. Thou knowest how hard it is
for me that the Christians deny us books. And there many a day have I
sat reading till the ve