An Obscure Apostle Part 12

"For whom do you spin the wool?"

"There are some good women who help me in that way. Hannah, Witebski's wife, your aunt Sarah, Ber's wife, give me wool to spin and then they pay me with copper--sometimes with silver money."

"Then you sometimes come to our house to take the wool for spinning from Sarah, Ber's wife?"

"Yes."

"And why have I never seen you?"

"Because they wish me to come secretly. Ber and his wife Sarah are very good-hearted people, but they don't wish anyone to know that they help us. I come to see them when there is n.o.body in the house except Lijka, your cousin, and I try to slip in in such a way that the black man could not see me."

"Whom do you mean by the 'black man'?" asked Meir in astonishment.

"Rabbi Isaak Todros!" answered Golda softly--almost in a whisper.

At the sound of that name p.r.o.nounced by Golda, Meir's face, formerly beaming, full of pity, blus.h.i.+ng with emotion, quivered nervously. He grew suddenly silent and looked into s.p.a.ce with eyes filled with gloomy lights. He became so thoughtful that a deep line appeared on his white forehead. It seemed to him that he had forgotten that he was not alone.

"Meir," sounded in a soft voice, close to his shoulder, "of what are you thinking, and why have your eyes become so sad? Your name means 'light.' The sun of joy--does it not s.h.i.+ne always for you?"

The young man, without changing the direction of his glance, shook his head.

"No," he answered, "there is a deep sorrow in my heart."

The girl bent toward him.

"Meir," she exclaimed, "and from where does this sorrow come to your heart?"

He was silent for a while, and then answered softly:

"From the fact that there are black people among us, and such darkness--such darkness!"

The girl dropped her head, and repeated like a sad echo:

"Ah! Such darkness!"

Meir continued to look into s.p.a.ce, toward where a long strip of the forest separated the golden valley from the purple sky.

"Golda!" he said softly.

"What, Meir?"

"Did you never wish to see and know what there is beyond that thick, high forest--what is going on in the broad world?"

The girl was silent. From her att.i.tude--her body bent toward the young man, her wide-open eyes full of fire--it could be seen that when she could look at him she did not wish to see anything else in the broad world.

But Meir spoke further:

"I would like to borrow wings from a bird, in order to go beyond that forest--to fly far away!"

"Don't you like the beautiful house of the rich Saul? Don't you like the faces of your brothers, relatives, and friends, that you wish for the wings of a bird to fly away?" whispered the girl, with stifled grief or fright.

"I like the home of Saul, my grandfather," whispered the thoughtful youth, "and I love my brothers and all my relatives; but I would like to fly beyond that forest in order to see everything and become very wise, and then return here and tell to those who are walking in darkness and wearing chains, what they should do in order to leave the darkness and throw off the chains."

After a time of silence he spoke further.

"I should like to know how the stars are fixed and how the planets grow, and how all the nations of the world live, and what kind of a sacred book they have. I would like to read their books, and learn from them G.o.d's thought and human lot, in order that my soul might become filled with science as the sea is filled with water."

Suddenly he stopped, and his voice broke with a sigh of inexpressible longing and insatiable desire. Again he was silent for a while, and then added softly:

"I would like to be as happy as was Rabbi Akiba."

"And who was Rabbi Akiba?" asked Golda shyly.

Meir's thoughtful eyes lit up and shone.

"He was a great man, Golda. I read his story often, and I was reading it again when you came."

"I know a great many beautiful stories," said Golda; "they grow in my soul, like red, fragrant roses! Meir, give me one more such rose that it may s.h.i.+ne for me when I may not see you."

Their looks met and a soft smile played about Meir's mouth.

"Do you understand Hebrew?"

She hastily nodded in the affirmative.

"Yes, I understand. Zeide taught me." Meir turned a few pages of the book which his lap and read aloud:

"Kolba Sabua was a rich man. His palaces were high as mountains and his dresses shone with gold. In his gardens grew fragrant cedars, palms with large leaves, and there bloomed sweet scented roses of Sharon."

"But more beautiful than the high palaces, than the fragrant cedars and crimson roses, more beautiful than all the maidens in Israel was his daughter, young Rachel."

"Kolba Sabua had as many herds as there were stars in the heavens, and these herds were watched by a poor youth who was tall, like a young cedar, and his face was pale and sad, as it is with a man who wishes to free his soul from the darkness, but cannot."

"The name of that youth was Joseph Akiba, and he lived on a high mountain on which the herds of his master grazed."

"And it happened once upon a time, that the beautiful Rachel came to her father, threw herself on the ground before him, kissed his feet, and wept bitterly; then she spoke: 'I want to marry Akiba and live in that little cabin which stands on the summit of the mountain, and in which he lives.'"

"Kolba Sabua was a proud man, and his heart was hard. He became very angry with his daughter, the beautiful Rachel, and forbade her to think of that young man."

"But the beautiful Rachel left the high palace, and taking with her only her dark eyes, which shone like big diamonds, and her dark tresses, which were raised over her head like a crown. And she went on the high mountain to the little cabin, and said, 'Akiba, behold your wife, who enters into your house!'"

"Akiba was joyful, and he drank from Rachel's eyes her diamond-like tears, and then began to tell her many beautiful things. Wise words poured like honey from his lips, and she listened and was happy, and said, 'Akiba, you shall be a great star, which shall s.h.i.+ne over Israel's roads.'"

"Kolba Sabua was a proud man, and his heart was hard. He sent to his daughter on the high mountain neither food nor clothing, and said, 'Let her become acquainted with hunger, and let her see misery.'"

"And the beautiful Rachel saw misery, and became acquainted with hunger. There were days when she had nothing to put into Akiba's mouth, and thought that her husband must go hungry."

"Akiba spoke, 'No matter that I am hungry,' and then he told her wise things, but she descended the high mountains, went to the town, and cried, 'Who will give me a measure of millet-seed for the dark crown which I wear on my head?' And they gave her a measure of millet-seed, and took her dark crown from her forehead, which was more beautiful than diamonds."