Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 70, No. 434, December, 1851. Various

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СКАЧАТЬ she said to the little dog, who wagged his tail and gave her a piteous look as she turned to go away – "A Dios, Sancho," she repeated, taking him up and kissing him very affectionately. The poor child was ready to cry.

      "Come and see him every day, my child," said Carlota, "and when better times come you shall have him again."

      CHAPTER II

      Lazaro the Jew was seated towards dusk that evening in a sort of office partitioned off by an open railing from a great store filled with a most motley collection of articles. Sofas, looking-glasses, washing-stands – bales of goods in corded canvass – rows of old boots purchased from officers' servants – window curtains lying on heaps of carpeting and matting – bedsteads of wood and iron – crockery and glass – were all piled indiscriminately. Similar articles had also overflowed along the passage down the wooden steps leading to the square stone court below, which was lumbered with barrels, packing-cases, and pieces of old iron. This court was entered from the street, and an arched door on one side of it, barred and padlocked, opened on a large warehouse, which nobody except the Jew had set foot in for many months.

      The Jew himself was a spare, rather small man, with a thin eager face, small sharp features, and a scanty beard. Being by descent a Barbary Jew, he wore the costume peculiar to that branch of his race – a black skull-cap; a long-skirted, collarless, cloth coat, buttoned close, the waist fastened with a belt; loose light-coloured trousers and yellow slippers – altogether he looked somewhat like an overgrown scholar of Christ's Hospital. He was busied in turning over old parchment-covered ledgers, when an officer entered.

      Von Dessel was a captain in Hardenberg's regiment. He was a square, strong-built man, about forty, with very light hair, as was apparent since the governor's order had forbidden the use of powder to the troops, in consequence of the scarcity of flour. His thick, white, overhanging eyebrows, close lips, and projecting under jaw gave sternness to his countenance.

      "Good afternoon, captain," said the Jew; "what I do for you to-day, sare?"

      "Do for me! By Gott, you have done for me already, with your cursed Hebrew tricks," said the captain. The German and the Jew met on a neutral ground of broken English.

      "I always treat every gentleman fair, sare," said the Jew. "I tell you, captain, I lose by that last bill of yours."

      "Der teufel! who gains, then?" said Von Dessel, "for you cut me off thirty per cent."

      The Jew shrugged his shoulders.

      "I don't make it so, sare; the siege makes it so. When the port is open, you shall have more better exchange."

      "Well, money must be had," said the German. "What will you give now for my bill for twenty pounds?"

      The Jew consulted a book of figures – then made some calculations on paper – then appeared to consider intently.

      "Curse you, speak!" said the choleric captain. "You have made up your mind about how much roguery long ago."

      "Captain, sare, I give you feefty dallars," said the Jew.

      The captain burst forth with a volley of German execrations.

      "Captain," said the Jew presently, "I like to please a gentleman if I can. I give you one box of cigars besides – real Cubas – one hundred and feefty in a box."

      The captain at this broke forth again, but checked himself presently on the entrance of the Jew's daughter, who now returned from the Major's. She advanced quietly into the room, made a little bow to the captain, took off and laid aside her shawl, and, taking up some work, sat down and began to sew.

      Von Dessel resumed his expostulation in a milder tone. The Jew, however, knew the money was necessary to him, and only yielded so far as to increase his box of cigars to two hundred; and the captain, finding he could get no better terms from him, was forced to agree. While the Jew was drawing out the bills, the German gazed attentively at Esther, with a good deal of admiration expressed in his countenance.

      "I can't take the money now," said he, after signing the bills. "I am going on duty. Bring it to me to-morrow morning, at nine o'clock."

      "I'm afraid I can't, sare," said Lazaro; "too moch business. Couldn't you send for it, captain?"

      "Not possible," said the German; "but you must surely have somebody that might bring it – some trustworthy person you know." And his eye rested on Esther.

      "There's my dater, sare," said the Jew – "I shall send her, if that will do."

      "Good," said the captain, "do not forget," and quitted the room forthwith.

      He was scarcely gone when a pair with whom the reader is already slightly acquainted, Mr and Mrs Bags, presented themselves. The effects of their morning conviviality had in a great measure disappeared.

      "Your servant, sir," said Bags. The Jew nodded.

      "We've got a few articles to dispose of," pursued Mr Bags, looking round the room cautiously. "They was left us," he added in a low tone, "by a diseased friend."

      "Ah!" said the Jew, "never mind where you got 'em. Be quick – show them."

      Mrs Bags produced from under her cloak, first a tin teakettle, then a brass saucepan; and Mr Bags, unbuttoning his coat, laid on the table three knives and a silver fork. Esther, passing near the table at the time, glanced accidentally at the fork, and recognised the Flinders crest – a talbot, or old English bloodhound.

      "Father," said she hastily, in Spanish, "don't have anything to do with that – it must be stolen." But the Jew turned so sharply on her, telling her to mind her work, that she retreated.

      The Jew took up the tea-kettle, and examined the bottom to see that it was sound – did the same with the saucepan – looked at the knives narrowly, and still closer at the fork – then ranged them before him on the table.

      "For dis," said he, laying his hand on the tea-kettle, "we will say one pound of rice; for dis (the saucepan) two pounds of corned beef; for de knives, a bottle of rum; and for de fork, seex ounces of the best tea."

      "Curse your tea!" said Mr Bags.

      "Yes!" said Mrs Bags, who had with difficulty restrained herself during the process of valuation, "we doesn't want no tea. And the things is worth a much more than what you say: the saucepan's as good as new, and the fork's silver – "

      "Plated," said the Jew, weighing it across his finger.

      "A many years," said Mrs Bags, "have I lived in gentlemen's families, and well do I know plate from silver. I've lived with Mrs Milson of Pidding Hill, where everything was silver, and nothing plated, even to the handles of the doors; and a dear good lady she was to me; many's the gown, she giv me. And I've lived with – "

      Here the Jew unceremoniously interrupted the train of her recollections by pushing the things from before him. "Take what I offer, or else take your things away," said he, shortly.

      Mr and Mrs Bags grumbled considerably. The tea they positively refused at any price: Mr Bags didn't like it, and Mrs Bags said it disagreed with her. So the Jew agreed to give them instead another bottle of rum, a pound of onions, and two pounds of beef; and with these terms they at length closed, and departed with the results of their barter.

      During the altercation, a soldier of another regiment had entered, and stood silently awaiting his turn to be attended to. He was a gaunt man, СКАЧАТЬ