Daniel Deronda

Chapter 34

Deronda took in these details by parenthetic glances while he met Jacob's

pressing solicitude about the knife. He had taken the pains to buy one

with the requisites of the hook and white handle, and produced it on

demand, saying,--

"Is that the sort of thing you want, Jacob?"

It was subjected to a severe scrutiny, the hook and blades were opened,

and the article of barter with the cork-screw was drawn forth for

comparison.

"Why do you like a hook better than a cork-screw?" said Deronda.

"'Caush I can get hold of things with a hook. A corkscrew won't go into

anything but corks. But it's better for you, you can draw corks."

"You agree to change, then?" said Deronda, observing that the grandmother

was listening with delight.

"What else have you got in your pockets?" said Jacob, with deliberative

seriousness.

"Hush, hush, Jacob, love," said the grandmother. And Deronda, mindful of

discipline, answered--

"I think I must not tell you that. Our business was with the knives."

Jacob looked up into his face scanningly for a moment or two, and

apparently arriving at his conclusions, said gravely--

"I'll shwop," handing the cork-screw knife to Deronda, who pocketed it

with corresponding gravity.

Immediately the small son of Shem ran off into the next room, whence his

voice was heard in rapid chat; and then ran back again--when, seeing his

father enter, he seized a little velveteen hat which lay on a chair and

put it on to approach him. Cohen kept on his own hat, and took no notice

of the visitor, but stood still while the two children went up to him and

clasped his knees: then he laid his hands on each in turn and uttered his

Hebrew benediction; whereupon the wife, who had lately taken baby from the

cradle, brought it up to her husband and held it under his outstretched

hands, to be blessed in its sleep. For the moment, Deronda thought that

this pawnbroker, proud of his vocation, was not utterly prosaic.

"Well, sir, you found your welcome in my family, I think," said Cohen,

putting down his hat and becoming his former self. "And you've been

punctual. Nothing like a little stress here," he added, tapping his side

pocket as he sat down. "It's good for us all in our turn. I've felt it

when I've had to make up payments. I began to fit every sort of box. It's

bracing to the mind. Now then! let us see, let us see."

"That is the ring I spoke of," said Deronda, taking it from his finger. "I

believe it cost a hundred pounds. It will be a sufficient pledge to you

for fifty, I think. I shall probably redeem it in a month or so."

Cohen's glistening eyes seemed to get a little nearer together as he met

the ingenuous look of this crude young gentleman, who apparently supposed

that redemption was a satisfaction to pawnbrokers. He took the ring,

examined and returned it, saying with indifference, "Good, good. We'll

talk of it after our meal. Perhaps you'll join us, if you've no objection.

Me and my wife'll feel honored, and so will mother; won't you, mother?"

The invitation was doubly echoed, and Deronda gladly accepted it. All now

turned and stood round the table. No dish was at present seen except one

covered with a napkin; and Mrs. Cohen had placed a china bowl near her

husband that he might wash his hands in it. But after putting on his hat

again, he paused, and called in a loud voice, "Mordecai!"

Can this be part of the religious ceremony? thought Deronda, not knowing

what might be expected of the ancient hero. But he heard a "Yes" from the

next room, which made him look toward the open door; and there, to his

astonishment, he saw the figure of the enigmatic Jew whom he had this

morning met with in the book-shop. Their eyes met, and Mordecai looked as

much surprised as Deronda--neither in his surprise making any sign of

recognition. But when Mordecai was seating himself at the end of the

table, he just bent his head to the guest in a cold and distant manner, as

if the disappointment of the morning remained a disagreeable association

with this new acquaintance.

Cohen now washed his hands, pronouncing Hebrew words the while: afterward,

he took off the napkin covering the dish and disclosed the two long flat

loaves besprinkled with seed--the memorial of the manna that fed the

wandering forefathers--and breaking off small pieces gave one to each of

the family, including Adelaide Rebekah, who stood on the chair with her

whole length exhibited in her amber-colored garment, her little Jewish

nose lengthened by compression of the lip in the effort to make a suitable

appearance. Cohen then uttered another Hebrew blessing, and after that,

the male heads were uncovered, all seated themselves, and the meal went on

without any peculiarity that interested Deronda. He was not very conscious

of what dishes he ate from; being preoccupied with a desire to turn the

conversation in a way that would enable him to ask some leading question;

and also thinking of Mordecai, between whom and himself there was an

exchange of fascinated, half furtive glances. Mordecai had no handsome

Sabbath garment, but instead of the threadbare rusty black coat of the

morning he wore one of light drab, which looked as if it had once been a

handsome loose paletot now shrunk with washing; and this change of

clothing gave a still stronger accentuation to his dark-haired, eager face

which might have belonged to the prophet Ezekiel--also probably not modish

in the eyes of contemporaries. It was noticeable that the thin tails of

the fried fish were given to Mordecai; and in general the sort of share

assigned to a poor relation--no doubt a "survival" of prehistoric

practice, not yet generally admitted to be superstitious.

Mr. Cohen kept up the conversation with much liveliness, introducing as

subjects always in taste (the Jew is proud of his loyalty) the Queen and

the Royal Family, the Emperor and Empress of the French--into which both

grandmother and wife entered with zest. Mrs. Cohen the younger showed an

accurate memory of distinguished birthdays; and the elder assisted her son

in informing the guest of what occurred when the Emperor and Empress were

in England and visited the city ten years before.

"I dare say you know all about it better than we do, sir," said Cohen,

repeatedly, by way of preface to full information; and the interesting

statements were kept up in a trio.

"Our baby is named _Eu_genie Esther," said young Mrs. Cohen, vivaciously.

"It's wonderful how the Emperor's like a cousin of mine in the face," said

the grandmother; "it struck me like lightning when I caught sight of him.

I couldn't have thought it."

"Mother, and me went to see the Emperor and Empress at the Crystal

Palace," said Mr. Cohen. "I had a fine piece of work to take care of,

mother; she might have been squeezed flat--though she was pretty near as

lusty then as she is now. I said if I had a hundred mothers I'd never take

one of 'em to see the Emperor and Empress at the Crystal Palace again; and

you may think a man can't afford it when he's got but one mother--not if

he'd ever so big an insurance on her." He stroked his mother's shoulder

affectionately, and chuckled a little at his own humor.

"Your mother has been a widow a long while, perhaps," said Deronda,

seizing his opportunity. "That has made your care for her the more

needful."

"Ay, ay, it's a good many _yore-zeit_ since I had to manage for her and

myself," said Cohen quickly. "I went early to it. It's that makes you a

sharp knife."

"What does--what makes a sharp knife, father?" said Jacob, his cheek very

much swollen with sweet-cake.

The father winked at his guest and said, "Having your nose put on the

grindstone."

Jacob slipped from his chair with the piece of sweet-cake in his hand, and

going close up to Mordecai, who had been totally silent hitherto, said,

"What does that mean--putting my nose to the grindstone?"

"It means that you are to bear being hurt without making a noise," said

Mordecai, turning his eyes benignantly on the small face close to his.

Jacob put the corner of the cake into Mordecai's mouth as an invitation to

bite, saying meanwhile, "I shan't though," and keeping his eyes on the

cake to observe how much of it went in this act of generosity. Mordecai

took a bite and smiled, evidently meaning to please the lad, and the

little incident made them both look more lovable. Deronda, however, felt

with some vexation that he had taken little by his question.

"I fancy that is the right quarter for learning," said he, carrying on the

subject that he might have an excuse for addressing Mordecai, to whom he

turned and said, "You have been a great student, I imagine?"

"I have studied," was the quiet answer. "And you?--You know German by the

book you were buying."

"Yes, I have studied in Germany. Are you generally engaged in

bookselling?" said Deronda.

"No; I only go to Mr. Ram's shop every day to keep it while he goes to

meals," said Mordecai, who was now looking at Deronda with what seemed a

revival of his original interest: it seemed as if the face had some

attractive indication for him which now neutralized the former

disappointment. After a slight pause, he said, "Perhaps you know Hebrew?"

"I am sorry to say, not at all."

Mordecai's countenance fell: he cast down his eyelids, looking at his

hands, which lay crossed before him, and said no more. Deronda had now

noticed more decisively than in their former interview a difficulty in

breathing, which he thought must be a sign of consumption.

"I've had something else to do than to get book-learning." said Mr.

Cohen,--"I've had to make myself knowing about useful things. I know

stones well,"--here he pointed to Deronda's ring. "I'm not afraid of

taking that ring of yours at my own valuation. But now," he added, with a

certain drop in his voice to a lower, more familiar nasal, "what do you

want for it?"

"Fifty or sixty pounds," Deronda answered, rather too carelessly.

Cohen paused a little, thrust his hands into his pockets, fixed on Deronda

a pair of glistening eyes that suggested a miraculous guinea-pig, and

said, "Couldn't do you that. Happy to oblige, but couldn't go that

lengths. Forty pound--say forty--I'll let you have forty on it."

Deronda was aware that Mordecai had looked up again at the words implying

a monetary affair, and was now examining him again, while he said, "Very

well, I shall redeem it in a month or so."

"Good. I'll make you out the ticket by-and-by," said Cohen, indifferently.

Then he held up his finger as a sign that conversation must be deferred.

He, Mordecai and Jacob put on their hats, and Cohen opened a thanksgiving,

which was carried on by responses, till Mordecai delivered himself alone

at some length, in a solemn chanting tone, with his chin slightly uplifted

and his thin hands clasped easily before him. Not only in his accent and

tone, but in his freedom from the self-consciousness which has reference

to others' approbation, there could hardly have been a stronger contrast

to the Jew at the other end of the table. It was an unaccountable

conjunction--the presence among these common, prosperous, shopkeeping

types, of a man who, in an emaciated threadbare condition, imposed a

certain awe on Deronda, and an embarrassment at not meeting his

expectations.

No sooner had Mordecai finished his devotional strain, than rising, with a

slight bend of his head to the stranger, he walked back into his room, and

shut the door behind him.

"That seems to be rather a remarkable man," said Deronda, turning to

Cohen, who immediately set up his shoulders, put out his tongue slightly,

and tapped his own brow. It was clearly to be understood that Mordecai did

not come up to the standard of sanity which was set by Mr. Cohen's view of

men and things.

"Does he belong to your family?" said Deronda.

This idea appeared to be rather ludicrous to the ladies as well as to

Cohen, and the family interchanged looks of amusement.

"No, no," said Cohen. "Charity! charity! he worked for me, and when he got

weaker and weaker I took him in. He's an incumbrance; but he brings a

blessing down, and he teaches the boy. Besides, he does the repairing at

the watches and jewelry."

Deronda hardly abstained from smiling at this mixture of kindliness and

the desire to justify it in the light of a calculation; but his

willingness to speak further of Mordecai, whose character was made the

more enigmatically striking by these new details, was baffled. Mr. Cohen

immediately dismissed the subject by reverting to the "accommodation,"

which was also an act of charity, and proceeded to make out the ticket,

get the forty pounds, and present them both in exchange for the diamond

ring. Deronda, feeling that it would be hardly delicate to protract his

visit beyond the settlement of the business which was its pretext, had to

take his leave, with no more decided result than the advance of forty

pounds and the pawn-ticket in his breast-pocket, to make a reason for

returning when he came up to town after Christmas. He was resolved that he

would then endeavor to gain a little more insight into the character and

history of Mordecai; from whom also he might gather something decisive

about the Cohens--for example, the reason why it was forbidden to ask Mrs.

Cohen the elder whether she had a daughter.