Aaron the Jew: A NovelFarjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
Aaron the Jew: A Novel
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Adopted children -- Fiction; Jews -- England -- Fiction
"I will not pretend to say. _We_ know, Cohen, what we think of our own
children, but there are people in the world with different ideas from
ours. The mother of this little one will feel grieved at first, no
doubt, but I dare say she will soon get over it. Then, perhaps her
husband will not tell her. Here we are at the woman's house."
They halted before a small cottage, inhabited by people in humble
circumstances. Before he aroused the inmates, Mr. Moss said,--
"I shall keep your name out of the affair, Cohen; but to a certain
extent the woman must be taken into our confidence. Secrecy will be
imposed upon her, and she will be paid for it. Remain in the
background; I will speak to her alone."
The woman herself came to the door, and when she was dressed Mr. Moss
had a conversation with her, the result of which was that she and the
two men walked to Aaron's house, where she took charge of the dead
child, and carried it to the cottage. Then she went for a doctor--to
Aaron's relief not the doctor who attended his wife--and as there was
no doubt that the child had died a natural death, a certificate to
that effect was given. At six in the morning Aaron returned to Rachel,
and sitting by her bedside, waited for her awakening. The potion she
had taken was to ensure sleep for twelve hours; in two hours he would
hear her voice; in two hours she would be caressing a babe to which
she had not given birth.
It seemed to Aaron as though months had passed since Mr. Moss had
presented himself at his house last night, and for a while it almost
seemed as though, in that brief time, it was not himself who had
played the principal part in this strange human drama, but another
being who had acted for him, and who had made him responsible for an
act which was to colour all his future life. But he did not permit
himself to indulge long in this view of what had transpired; he knew
and felt that he, and he alone, was responsible, and that to his dying
day he would be accountable for it. Well, he would bear the burden,
and would, every by means within his power, endeavour to atone for it.
He would keep strict watch over himself; he would never give way to
temptation; he would act justly and honourably; he would check the
hasty word; he would make no enemies; he would be kind and considerate
to all around him. He did not lay the flattering unction to his soul
that in thus sketching his future rule of life he was merely
committing himself to that which he had always followed in the past.
This one act seemed to cast a shadow over all that had gone before; he
had to commence anew.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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