Books: Leah Mordecai
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Mrs. Belle Kendrick Abbott >> Leah Mordecai
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Mark Abrams, the early friend and lover of Leah, was the oldest son
of a talented and highly-esteemed rabbi, who presided over the most
flourishing and wealthy Jewish congregation in the Queen City; and
Mark himself was highly esteemed, as a young man of unimpeachable
integrity and unusual brilliancy of intellect.
CHAPTER V.
MONDAY morning came again. The great bell in the cupola of Madam
Truxton's seminary had sounded, and all the pupils, large and small,
were gathered to join in the opening exercises. First, the
bright-eyed little girls, in tidy aprons, with hair smoothed back in
modest braids, or safely gathered under the faithful comb; then, the
more advanced scholars, each bearing the impress of healthful vigor
and hopeful heart; and last, the big girls, or "finishing class," as
Madam Truxton significantly styled them--all were assembled once more
on this bright Monday morning, to begin the duties of another week,
and share again the joys and sorrows of school life. It was a lovely
sight, this assembled school; for where is the heart that does not
see with unspeakable pleasure the dawning beauty of innocent,
careless maidenhood?
"Bertha, do you know the French lesson?" said Lizzie Heartwell, as
the class of young ladies was passing from the assembly hall to
Madam Cond‚'s room.
"Oh, just well enough, Lizzie, to keep me from a scolding, I guess.
Here, won't you please hold the book open at aimer, so I can get
that muss a little straight, in case madam calls upon me to
conjugate?"
Lizzie laughed.
"Oh, pshaw! of course you won't. Lizzie Heartwell, you are too
conscientious; but Helen, you will, won't you?"
"Yes, if you will hold it open for me, too. I am not at all prepared
in the lesson."
"Here, Leah," continued Bertha, laughing, and winking her roguish
eyes at Lizzie, "how much do you know of the verb aimer?"
"More than I wish I did," was the laconic reply of the beautiful
Jewess.
"I suppose so, judging from what I saw on last Saturday evening. But
here we are at the lion's den, and our levity had better subside."
"Bon jour, madame!"
"Bon jour, mesdemoiselles."
And the door was closed.
At this same hour, in the large, hollow square fronting the Citadel
Tower in the upper part of the Queen City, many platoons of young
men, dressed in the gray military suits of the cadets, were
drilling, drilling, drilling, according to custom, as a part of
their daily school routine.
A passer-by would have stopped for a moment, and watched with
interest this pleasing spectacle. The varied and intricate
evolutions made by these gray-clad figures, as they expanded into
broad platoons, and then, as if by magic, fell again into groups of
two, four, or six, was, to the unaccustomed beholder, a strange and
attractive performance.
The bristling bayonets shining in the bright morning sun, gave
evidence of the faithful care with with which their polish was
preserved. And these bright polished muskets spoke loudly too, to
the reflecting heart, of the wild work they might some day
accomplish, when carried into the conflict by these same skilful
hands that now so peacefully upheld them--demon-work, that might
clothe a land and people in sackcloth and desolation!
The drilling was ended, the last evolution made, the halt commanded,
and the order to disband spoken.
Like a fragile piece of potter's work, the magic ranks broke apart,
and each gun fell to the ground with a heavy "thud," like an iron
weight.
"I say, George, I am deuced tired of this turning and twisting, and
I'll be glad when the term ends, and I am set free from this place."
"Well, I can't say that I will, Le Grande," replied George Marshall,
as handsome a cadet as wore the uniform, and one highly ambitious
for promotion. "I came to this institute, because I was always
fascinated by military display, and I intend to make this my
lifelong profession."
"Whew! how tired I am! Well, you are welcome to it. As for me, it's
the last life I should choose. I like the uniform very well,
especially when I go where the girls are--they always give a cadet's
suit a second glance--but as for the 'profession of arms,' as you
call it, excuse me."
"What! would you like, Le Grande, always to be playing lady's man?"
"Oh! yes; and that reminds me, George, that I have a new lady-love;
she is at Madam Truxton's. To-day, at intermission, let's saunter
down to the seminary, and catch a glimpse of the girls. Maybe I'll
see her."
"I can't; at intermission I must study my Legendre. Look at the
clock now; it's late."
"Bother the Legendre! you are the strangest fellow I ever saw--care
no more for the girls than a 'cat does for holidays.' Won't you go?"
"Not to-day, Le Grande. I am very busy."
The clock struck nine, and George Marshall, with the other disbanded
cadets, hurried to the duties of the day--to the hard task of study
that awaited them within the grim walls of the citadel.
For a moment before turning to his books, George Marshall looked out
of the window, far away to the blue, misty harbor. There he saw
again old Fort Defiance, standing grim, stern, and dark against the
morning sky--the only object that marred the brightness of the blue
heaven and the blue water, melting together in the distance.
"How beautiful the harbor is to-day! And yet how sullen the fort
looks," said the young cadet as he surveyed the scene. "I see the
flag of my country floating, and all is peaceful and quiet in the
waters. Thank God for such a country! But I must hasten to my
duties."
CHAPTER VI.
"LEAH, dear, what troubles you this morning? Your melancholy look
distresses me. Is it any sorrow that you dare not unfold to your
loving
"LIZZIE?"
These lines Lizzie Heartwell slipped into the leaves of a book that
lay upon Leah's desk, while she was absent at a music recitation.
By and by the bell sounded for the half hour's release from study.
Then Leah stepped across the room, and gently taking Lizzie by the
arm, said, "Come, let's walk."
Lizzie put her arm around her friend, and the two girls walked out
into the court-yard, that formed a play-ground for the younger
scholars and a pleasant promenade for the older ones, and then
turned aside upon the brick walk that connected the kitchen and
servants' hall with the main building.
This brick walk, covered overhead by the piazza floor of the second
story of the wing of the building, was securely protected in all
kinds of weather. As Leah and Lizzie turned upon this promenade,
Bertha Levy came skipping up to them with a merry bound, saying:
"Come girls, let's have a game of graces. Helen is willing. Here she
is. What do you say?"
"Excuse me this morning, Bertha," Leah replied. "I do not feel well;
my head aches, and perhaps I can walk it away!"
"Oh! yes, certainly; but you are as solemn as an owl, of late, Leah;
what is the matter with you? Do you contemplate taking the veil? If
so, is it the white or the black veil?"
"Our people never take the veil, Bertha. Do you forget?" replied
Leah reproachfully.
"Forgive me, dear, I meant no harm. But I am in a hurry. Dame
Truxton will have that old bell sounded directly, and my game of
graces not even begun. I wish the old thing was still in its native
ore, and not always ready to call us into trouble;" and so saying,
Bertha skipped away, calling, "Here, Mag Lawton, Mary Pinckney, come
and play graces."
For a moment Lizzie and Leah stood watching the group as it formed,
and admiring the graceful movements of the hoops as they flew from
the fairylike wands of the girls. "That game is well called," said
Lizzie, as Leah caught her arm again and said:
"Come, let's walk on." Then, after a pause, she continued, "I found
your note, Lizzie, and I am sorry that I have such a telltale face;
but I am unhappy, Lizzie; yes, I am miserable, and I cannot conceal
it. I would not obtrude my sorrow upon others, but it is my face and
not my tongue that betrays me."
"Do not think, Leah, I beg you, that I would seek to pry into the
secret of your heart," responded Lizzie; "but I thought if you were
in trouble, maybe I might in some way comfort you."
"I thank you, dear, dear Lizzie, for your sympathy"--and a tear fell
from the lustrous lashes of the Jewess; "I thank you again and
again," she continued, "but nothing you can do can alleviate my
sorrow."
"Well, you can trust me for sympathy and love always, whether that
will comfort you or not, Leah; be your trouble what it may."
"Mine is no sudden grief, Lizzie; it is a long, sad story, one that
I have never felt at liberty to inflict upon any one's hearing, and
yet, I have always found you so tender and so true, that when any
additional sorrow comes to me my heart strangely turns to you for
sympathy. I know not why. Can you tell me?"
"We always turn to those who love us, I think, in hours of
darkness."
"Yes, Lizzie, but there is a peculiar yearning, in my heart for you,
at times. I imagine it's akin to the feeling I should have for my
mother, were she living. With this feeling at my heart, I long to
look upon my mother's miniature which I once had, but which is now
in my step-mother's possession, and to gaze upon the face that
speaks such love to me, though her voice has so long been silent."
Lizzie, touched at Leah's pathetic words, turned and looked at her
friend with a tender glance, and said, "Trust me, Leah, for that
sympathy which you from some cause need, and unburden your aching
heart to me, if you choose."
"But, there! the bell is ringing and we must go," said Leah
abruptly. "Let's meet after school in the upper corridor, that
overlooks the sea. I have something further to say to you."
"If you wish, dear Leah; and it's but a short two hours till
dismission. Let's go."
Cloaked and hooded, the school-girls were all ready for departure
after the three long, welcome strokes of the great clock; when Leah
said, "It's growing chilly, Lizzie. Wrap your shawl closely around
you, for it's cold out on the corridor. Come, let's go out at the
rear door before it is locked."
Ascending a spiral staircase, the two girls reached the upper
corridor that ran across the south side of the end wing of the
building.
"Suppose Madam Truxton should come upon us, Lizzie, what would she
think?" said Leah, as the two girls crouched down closer together at
the end of the corridor.
"Nothing wrong, I guess, as we have our books; and perhaps we had
better look over our French a minute. What do you say?"
"So we had, as it comes first in the morning," and bending their
heads together the girls were silent for a time, pretending to
study. At length Lizzie closed the book, and Leah began her story.
LEAH'S STORY.
"I shudder, Lizzie, when I think of unfolding the sad story of my
life to you; and yet, I am impelled to do so by this hunger for
sympathy that is so constantly gnawing at my heart. As I have told
you before, my heart strangely turns to you in sorrow. In the three
years that I have known you, and we have seen each other daily, I
have never known you guilty of a single act or word that was
unworthy--"
"Oh! Leah--"
"Do not interrupt me, Lizzie. You must hear my story now, though it
shall be briefly told; and I have one request to make, my dear. It
is, that you have charity for my faults, and pity for me in my many
temptations." She continued:
"As you have known before, my mother died when I was a very little
child, scarcely three years old. I remember her but very
indistinctly. The woman who is now my father's wife, was his
housekeeper in my mother's life-time. She, of course, came from the
common walks of life, her father being a very poor butcher. How she
ever became my father's wife, I do not know; but my old nurse used
to intimate to me that it was by no honorable means. Be that as it
may, he married her when I was four years of age; and from that date
my miserable story begins. The first incident of my life after this
second marriage which I remember most vividly was this. A year after
my father's marriage to Rebecca, business of importance called him
to England, and a long-cherished desire to see his aged parents took
him to Bohemia, where they lived, after the business in Liverpool
was transacted. How I fared while he was gone, I dimly remember; but
well enough, I suppose, as I was still partially under the care and
control of my faithful nurse, a colored woman of kind and tender
heart.
"Poor, dear old woman, she is dead long ago!
"This visit of my father to his parents proved to be the last, as
they died a year or two afterward. Among my father's relatives in
the old country, was a cousin who lived in wealth and luxury
somewhere in Saxony. This cousin had been as a brother to him in his
young days, and on my father's return from Bohemia, he passed
through Saxony and paid this cousin a visit; He still speaks
occasionally of that delightful event. I must not forget to tell you
that this cousin was a baron--Baron von Rosenberg. He was not born to
the title; it was conferred on him for some heroic act, the
circumstance of which I do not now remember, during an insurrection.
"At parting with my father at the close of his visit, the Baron made
him many costly gifts; among others, one of an elegant pipe of rare
and exquisite workmanship. How distinctly I recall it now! It was in
the shape of an elk's head, with spreading, delicately wrought
antlers. The eyes were formed of some kind of precious stones, and
on the face of the elk were the Baron's initials inlaid in gold.
"The stem, I remember well, was of ebony, richly ornamented with
gold. I suppose it was a magnificent thing of its kind, and prized
beyond measure by my father. He used it only on rare occasions, and
for the gratification of our guests. But at length an event occurred
that called forth the treasured pipe from its casket, never to be
returned. It was on the occasion of the third anniversary of my
father's marriage to Rebecca Hartz--an occasion that richly deserved
sackcloth and ashes instead of feasting and merriment. But the day
was one of grand demonstration, and many guests and friends were in
attendance. All the articles of value and luxury belonging to the
family were brought into requisition, and among the number, the
treasured but ill-fated pipe. The guests ate, drank, and were merry,
I suppose, till all were sated, and at a late and lonely hour they
left my father's house deserted, with disorder reigning supreme in
every apartment.
"'Forget not my elk's head, Rebecca,' was my father's last
admonition, as he retired to his bed-chamber, after the revel was
over.
"But Rebecca did not heed his command, and being fatigued herself,
hurriedly retired, saying, 'I'll wait till morning.'
"Morning came, and unfortunately for me, I was the first to awaken.
Hastily dressing, I thought I would explore the scene of the late
festivity; and so I descended the stairs and entered the silent,
deserted drawing-room. In a few moments, Rebecca herself entered the
drawing-room, but partially dressed and wrapped in a crimson shawl.
She had come to remove the pipe.
"'Why are you up so early, Leah?' she said confusedly, seeing that I
was also in the room. And then, as she passed hurriedly around the
table where the pipe lay, the treacherous fringe of her shawl caught
in the delicate antlers of the elk's head and dragged it from its
place upon the table. It fell to the floor with a crash, and we both
looked down in dismay on the wreck at her feet. A footstep sounded
in the hall at that moment, and fearing it was my father, Rebecca
said boldly, and with gleaming eye:
"'What did you do that for, you wretched child?'
"'Do what?' I whispered, overawed.
"'Deny it, if you dare, and I'll break every bone in your body, you
lynx! What will your father say?' she continued. 'Pick up every
piece, and go and show it to him. Say you broke it, and ask his
forgiveness! Do you hear me?'
"I hesitated and trembled.
"'Dare you disobey me?' she angrily exclaimed, with menacing
gesture.
"'I am afraid of my father,' I whispered again, scarcely knowing
whether I really did the mischief or not.
"'And well you may be," she continued fearlessly, seeing that she
was gaining the mastery over me; 'but the sooner you seek his
forgiveness, the sooner you will obtain it. Go at once, I tell you.'
"Oh! pity me, Lizzie! pity me, for from that fatal moment, I have
been the slave, the serf, of a stronger will--a will that has
withered and crushed out, by slow degrees, the last trace of moral
courage that might have beautified and strengthened my character;
crushed it out, and left me a cowardly, miserable, helpless girl!
But to return.
"Involuntarily I stooped down, and began to pick up the pieces of
the fragile horns, and the eyes of the elk's head, that lay
scattered around upon the soft carpet, really wondering if, indeed,
I did break it.
"'Now you have gathered up the pieces, go at once to your father;
and mind you tell him you broke it. Do you hear me?'
"I glided out of the room, away from the presence of the woman who
had so cruelly imposed upon my helplessness. Trembling with fear,
and a sense of my supposed guilt, I approached my father, who was by
this time comfortably seated in the family sitting-room, reading the
morning paper.
"I crept to him and held out the fragments.
"'The d--l to pay! Who broke this?' he almost shouted in anger.
"'I did,' I murmured; and the rest of my story unspoken, my father
struck me a blow for the first and last time in his life. It sent me
reeling against a table; the sharp corner struck my forehead and cut
a terrible gash. Here, I will show it to you. It is plainly visible,
and always will be."
Leah lifted the glossy dark hair from her smooth pale forehead, and
displayed the long, hard scar, that was so carefully concealed by
the ebon folds. "I always wear my hair combed to hide it."
"Oh! Leah, Leah," sighed Lizzie, "how dreadful!"
"At sight of the blood that flowed freely from the wound, my father
caught me in his arms, and kissing my blood-stained face, exclaimed
again and again:
"'Fool, wretch, devil, that I am! Not for all the world would I have
shed a drop of this precious blood. I beg your forgiveness, my
darling--a thousand times, my child!' My cries, though suppressed,
brought my mother to the room. With a well-assumed air of innocence
and tenderness, she sought to wipe away the blood from my face, and
bind up the gash upon my forehead. I all the while abstractedly
wondering if I really did break the pipe; such was my weakness, such
the power that was over and around my young life, and is yet, even
to this very hour.
"My father gathered up the scattered fragments of the broken
treasure and cast them into the fire; and from that day to this, he
has never alluded in any manner to that occurrence. Always kind and
tender to me, he seems to be ever endeavoring to atone for some
wrong, and his long-continued silence assures me how vividly and
regretfully he remembers his violence toward me."
"Shocking!" ejaculated Lizzie with emotion.
"Yes, it is shocking, dear Lizzie; for the horrible truth is ever
before me, and this hated scar is the seal of the first lie of my
tender young life. I never comb my hair away from my face, so
morbidly am I impressed with the fear that those who see it will
read the cause of its existence. Oh! Lizzie, that falsehood, and
that cruel deception imposed upon a helpless child, were terrible
indeed, too terrible to be borne.
"But I must proceed. I have dwelt thus minutely upon this first
unhappy incident of my childhood, because it is a sort of guide-post
to a long and dreary waste of years. It forms the headstone of my
departed freedom, for, as I have said, in that evil moment when I
yielded to her wicked, imperious will, I lost all moral power, and
to this day, am worse than her vassal. Try as I may, I cannot shake
off the habit; it has become second nature, and her influence now is
so withering that I dare not make resistance; and yet, I despise
myself for my weakness. Pity me, Lizzie, do not blame me! There's a
moral want about me somewhere, Heaven knows, that no human agency
can supply.
"My mother's assumed fondness for me led my father to believe that
she loved me truly, and was tender and kind as she should be. He
never dreamed of her deception. And to this day, he knows nothing of
it, for I have never told him any of my trials and sorrows, since
the day he struck me that undeserved blow. I love my father
tenderly, and yet I cannot, dare not, unfold to his blinded vision
the facts that have so long been concealed from him. No, Lizzie, I
would rather suffer on as I must do, than darken his life by such a
discovery.
"Thus you see something of how the years passed on. I, a helpless,
ill-used orphan, growing older and and stronger day by day, and yet
morally weaker and weaker, with no will or power of resistance, till
I wonder sometimes that I am not an imbecile indeed.
"I thank the great God for my school-days. They have been days of
pleasure and benefit to me. They have taken me from that home where
I withered as the dew withers before the glaring sun, and cast me
among pleasant friends, who seem to love me, and at least are true
and kind. True and kind! Dear Lizzie, you cannot comprehend the
significance of that expression. To my starved, wretched heart,
these words are the fulness of all speech. I comprehend their
meaning, and regard them as I do the burning stars afar, shining
dimly upon a darkened world.
"Yes; again I say, I thank the great God for these school-days, that
led me to know you, Lizzie--you, to whom my heart has learned to turn
as a wounded, helpless bird would turn to its mother's sheltering
wing for safety and protection."
Touched by Leah's story, and her protestations of love, Lizzie bowed
her head in her hands, and a few tears fell through the slender
fingers. Observing these tears, Leah bent forward and kissed them
away, saying, "These are the first tears I ever saw fall for me."
Then she continued:
"It is not necessary to dwell on the innumerable instances of
cruelty and wrong that have marked my life, from the period just
mentioned, on to the present. It is enough to say that many events
in my home-life have left their searing impress on my heart and
brain; and many, I thank God, have faded from my memory. But when I
was fifteen, about the time you and I entered this seminary, an
event took place, that has deeply wounded my heart, and will leave
it sore forever. It was this:
"Very early on the morning of my fifteenth birthday, my father came
to my chamber and congratulated me with many kisses, giving me his
blessing. Then he said:
"'My daughter, I have here the miniature of your mother, taken
before your birth. I had it set in diamonds then, for you, my child,
little dreaming she would so soon be taken from us both. I have kept
it securely locked away, waiting till you were old enough properly
to appreciate its value. Now to-day, on your fifteenth birth-day, I
have called forth the treasure, and give it to you forever. Take it;
keep it carefully, my child, for the sake of the living as well as
the dead.' My father laid the miniature in my hand, and turned away
with ill-disguised emotion. Softly, and with trembling hand, I
opened the casket that contained the treasure, and for the first
time since her death, my eyes rested upon the dimly remembered
features of my angel mother.
"O Lizzie Heartwell! At the first glimpse of that sweet, but
half-forgotten face, I fell, like a helpless thing that I was, to
the floor, prostrate with emotion. How long I remained thus overcome
by sorrow and weeping, I know not. I knew nothing till the old
familiar voice, harsh, cold, and cruel, fell upon my ear as the door
opened.
"'Leah Mordecai, why are you lying there crying like a booby? What's
the matter with you?' said my mother.
"Involuntarily I hushed my sobs, dried my tears, and arose to my
feet.
"'What have you there, baby?' she continued.
"Without a word I handed her the casket, and as she regarded the
sweet, mild face with cruel scorn, she said:
"'What's this you are blubbering over? Didn't you ever see a
painted-faced doll before? Who gave you this?'
"'My father,' I replied fearfully; 'and it's the picture of my
mother, my own dear mother that's dead.'
"My reply seemed to enrage her, and she said, 'The diamonds are
beautiful, but I can't say as much for the face. I suppose you
consider that you have no mother now; from all this whimpering. See
here, Leah,' she added as a sudden thought seemed to strike her,
'You are too young to keep such a costly gift as this. I'll take it,
and keep it myself till you have sense enough to know what diamonds
are.'
"'Give it back to me,' I said excitedly, daring to hold out my
trembling hand.
"'Indeed I shall not,' she angrily replied, pushing back the
importunate hand.
"'Your father is a fool, to have given a child like you such a
valuable thing as this. I'll see if he gives my Sarah this many
diamonds when she is but a child of fifteen. And now, mind you, Leah
Mordecai,' she continued, with a triumphant smile upon her wicked
face, 'if you dare tell your father I took this from you, you'll
repent it sorely. Mark my warning; say nothing about it unless
asked, and then say you gave it to me for safe keeping.' She dropped
the casket into her dress pocket, and swept coldly out of the room.
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