German fiction -- Translations into English; Palestine -- History -- Fiction
He had found in Miriam the noblest of women. He hoped that Kasana might
make another happy. To him she would ever be the charming child from
whom we expect nothing save the delight of her presence.
He had come to ask from her, as a tried friend ever ready for leal
service, a joyous glance. From Miriam he would ask herself, with all her
majesty and beauty, for he had borne the solitude of the camp long
enough, and now that on his return no mother's arms opened to welcome
him, he felt for the first time the desolation of a single life. He
longed to enjoy the time of peace when, after dangers and privations of
every kind, he could lay aside his weapons. It was his duty to lead a
wife home to his father's hearth and to provide against the extinction of
the noble race of which he was the sole representative. Ephraim was the
son of his sister.
Filled with the happiest thoughts, he had advanced toward Tannis and, on
reaching the goal of all his hopes and wishes, found it lying before him
like a ripening grain-field devastated by hail and swarms of locusts.
As if in derision, fate led him first to the Hebrew quarter. A heap
of dusty ruins marked the site of the house where he had spent his
childhood, and for which his heart had longed; and where his loved ones
had watched his departure, beggars were now greedily searching for
plunder among the debris.
The first man to greet him in Tanis was Kasana's father. Instead of a
friendly glance from her eyes, he had received from him tidings that
pierced his inmost heart. He had expected to bring home a wife, and the
house where she was to reign as mistress was razed to the ground. The
father, for whose blessing he longed, and who was to have been gladdened
by his advancement, had journeyed far away and must henceforward be the
foe of the sovereign to whom he owed his prosperity.
He had been proud of rising, despite his origin, to place and power. Now
he would be able, as leader of a great host, to show the prowess of which
he was capable. His inventive brain had never lacked schemes which, if
executed by his superiors, would have had good results; now he could
fulfil them according to his own will, and instead of the tool become the
guiding power.
These reflections had awakened a keen sense of exultation in his breast
and winged his steps on his homeward march and, now that he had reached
the goal, so long desired, must he turn back to join the shepherds and
builders to whom--it now seemed a sore misfortune--he belonged by the
accident of birth and ancestry, though, denial was futile, he felt as
utterly alien to the Hebrews as he was to the Libyans whom he had
confronted on the battle-field. In almost every pursuit he valued, he
had nothing in common with his people. He had believed he might
truthfully answer yes to his father's enquiry whether he had returned a
Hebrew, yet he now felt it would be only a reluctant and half-hearted
assent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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