The Scapegoat [103]
observing the depth of his, and they laid their heads together to discover the cause of his madness. The most part of them concluded that he was repining for the loss of his former state. And when one day another prisoner came from Tetuan with further tales of the Basha's tyranny, and of the people's shame at thought of how they had dealt by Israel, the prisoners led the man back to where Israel was standing in the accustomed act of dispensing bounty, that he might tell his story into the rightful ears.
"They're always crying for you," said the Tetawani; "'Israel ben Oliel! Israel ben Oliel!' that's what you hear in the mosques and the streets everywhere.' Shame on us for casting him out, shame on us! He was our father!' Jews and Muslimeen, they're all saying so."
It was useless. The glad tidings could not find their way. That black page of Israel's life which told of the people's ingratitude was sealed in the book of memory. Israel laughed. What could his good friend mean? Behold! was he not rich? Had he not troops of comrades and guests about him?
The prisoners turned aside, baffled and done. At length one man--it was no other than 'Larby the wastrel--drew some of them apart and said, "You are all wrong. It's not his former state that he's thinking of. _I_ know what it is--who knows so well as I? Listen! you hear his laughter! Well, he must weep, or he will be mad for ever. He must be _made_ to weep. Yes, by Allah! and I must do it."
That same night, when darkness fell over the dark place, and the prisoners tied up their cotton headkerchiefs and lay down to sleep, 'Larby sat beside Israel's place with sighs and moans and other symptoms of a dejected air.
"Sidi, master," he faltered, "I had a little brother once, and he was blind. Born blind, Sidi, my own mother's son. But you wouldn't think how happy he was for all that? You see, Sidi he never missed anything, and so his little face was like laughing water! By Allah! I loved that boy better than all the world! Women? Why--well, never mind! He was six and I was eighteen, and he used to ride on my back! Black curls all over, Sidi, and big white eyes that looked at you for all they couldn't see. Well a bleeder came from Soos--curse his great-grandfather! Looked at little Hosain--'Scales!' said he--burn his father! Bleed him and he'll see! So they bled him, and he did see. By Allah! yes, for a minute--half a minute! 'Oh, 'Larby,' he cried--I was holding him; then he--he--' 'Larby,' he cried faint, like a lamb that's lost in the mountains--and then--and then--'Oh, oh, 'Larby,' he moaned Sidi, Sidi, I _paid_ that bleeder--there and then--_this_ way! That's why I'm here!"
It was a lie, but 'Larby acted it so well that his voice broke in his throat, and great drops fell from his eyes on to Israel's hand.
The effect on Israel himself was strange and even startling. While 'Larby was speaking, he was beating his forehead and mumbling: "Where? When? Naomi!" as if grappling for lost treasures in an ebbing sea. And when 'Larby finished, he fell on him with reproaches. "And you are weeping for that?" he cried. "You think it much that the sweet child is dead--God rest him! So it is to the like of you, but look at me!"
His voice betrayed a grim pride in his miseries. "Look at me! Am I weeping? No; I would scorn to weep. But I have more cause a thousandfold. Listen! Once I was rich; but what were riches without children? Hard bread with no water for sop. I asked God for a child. He gave me a daughter; but she was born blind and dumb and deaf. I asked God to take my riches and give her hearing. He gave her hearing; but what was hearing without speech? I asked God to take all I had and give her speech. He gave her speech, but what was speech without sight? I asked God to take my place from me and give her sight. He gave her sight, and I was cast out of the town like a beggar. What matter? She had all, and I was forgiven. But when I was happy, when I was content, when she filled my heart with sunshine, God snatched me away from
"They're always crying for you," said the Tetawani; "'Israel ben Oliel! Israel ben Oliel!' that's what you hear in the mosques and the streets everywhere.' Shame on us for casting him out, shame on us! He was our father!' Jews and Muslimeen, they're all saying so."
It was useless. The glad tidings could not find their way. That black page of Israel's life which told of the people's ingratitude was sealed in the book of memory. Israel laughed. What could his good friend mean? Behold! was he not rich? Had he not troops of comrades and guests about him?
The prisoners turned aside, baffled and done. At length one man--it was no other than 'Larby the wastrel--drew some of them apart and said, "You are all wrong. It's not his former state that he's thinking of. _I_ know what it is--who knows so well as I? Listen! you hear his laughter! Well, he must weep, or he will be mad for ever. He must be _made_ to weep. Yes, by Allah! and I must do it."
That same night, when darkness fell over the dark place, and the prisoners tied up their cotton headkerchiefs and lay down to sleep, 'Larby sat beside Israel's place with sighs and moans and other symptoms of a dejected air.
"Sidi, master," he faltered, "I had a little brother once, and he was blind. Born blind, Sidi, my own mother's son. But you wouldn't think how happy he was for all that? You see, Sidi he never missed anything, and so his little face was like laughing water! By Allah! I loved that boy better than all the world! Women? Why--well, never mind! He was six and I was eighteen, and he used to ride on my back! Black curls all over, Sidi, and big white eyes that looked at you for all they couldn't see. Well a bleeder came from Soos--curse his great-grandfather! Looked at little Hosain--'Scales!' said he--burn his father! Bleed him and he'll see! So they bled him, and he did see. By Allah! yes, for a minute--half a minute! 'Oh, 'Larby,' he cried--I was holding him; then he--he--' 'Larby,' he cried faint, like a lamb that's lost in the mountains--and then--and then--'Oh, oh, 'Larby,' he moaned Sidi, Sidi, I _paid_ that bleeder--there and then--_this_ way! That's why I'm here!"
It was a lie, but 'Larby acted it so well that his voice broke in his throat, and great drops fell from his eyes on to Israel's hand.
The effect on Israel himself was strange and even startling. While 'Larby was speaking, he was beating his forehead and mumbling: "Where? When? Naomi!" as if grappling for lost treasures in an ebbing sea. And when 'Larby finished, he fell on him with reproaches. "And you are weeping for that?" he cried. "You think it much that the sweet child is dead--God rest him! So it is to the like of you, but look at me!"
His voice betrayed a grim pride in his miseries. "Look at me! Am I weeping? No; I would scorn to weep. But I have more cause a thousandfold. Listen! Once I was rich; but what were riches without children? Hard bread with no water for sop. I asked God for a child. He gave me a daughter; but she was born blind and dumb and deaf. I asked God to take my riches and give her hearing. He gave her hearing; but what was hearing without speech? I asked God to take all I had and give her speech. He gave her speech, but what was speech without sight? I asked God to take my place from me and give her sight. He gave her sight, and I was cast out of the town like a beggar. What matter? She had all, and I was forgiven. But when I was happy, when I was content, when she filled my heart with sunshine, God snatched me away from