Nina Balatka

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER VI

  Anton Trendellsohn had learned from his father that Nina had spoken toher aunt about the title-deeds of the houses in the Kleinseite, andthat thus, in a roundabout way, a demand had been made for them. "Ofcourse, they will not give them up," he had said to his father. "Whyshould they, unless the law makes them? They have no idea of honour orhonesty to one of us." The elder Jew had then expressed his opinionthat Josef Balatka should be required to make the demand as a matter ofbusiness, to enforce a legal right; but to this Anton had replied thatthe old man in the Kleinseite was not in a condition to act efficientlyin the matter himself. It was to him that the money had been advanced,but to the Zamenoys that it had in truth been paid; and Anton declaredhis purpose of going to Karil Zamenoy and himself making his demand.And then there had been a discussion, almost amounting to a quarrel,between the two Trendellsohns as to Nina Balatka. Poor Nina need nothave added another to her many causes of suffering by doubting herlover's truth. Anton Trendellsohn, though not given to speak of hislove with that demonstrative vehemence to which Nina had trusted in herattempts to make her friends understand that she could not be talkedout of her engagement, was nevertheless sufficiently firm in hispurpose. He was a man very constant in all his purposes, whom nonewho knew him would have supposed likely to jeopardise his worldlyinterests for the love of a Christian girl, but who was very littleapt to abandon aught to which he had set his hand because the voicesof those around him might be against him. He had thought much of hisposition as a Jew before he had spoken of love to the pennilessChristian maiden who frequented his father's house, pleading for herfather in his poverty; but the words when spoken meant much, and Ninaneed not have feared that he would forget them. He was a man not muchgiven to dalliance, not requiring from day to day the soft sweetness ofa woman's presence to keep his love warm; but his love could maintainits own heat, without any softness or dalliance. Had it not been so,such a girl as Nina would hardly have surrendered to him her wholeheart as she had done.

  "You will fall into trouble about the maiden," the elder Trendellsohnhad said.

  "True, father; there will be trouble enough. In what that we do isthere not trouble?"

  "A man in the business of his life must encounter labour and grief anddisappointment. He should take to him a wife to give him ease in thesethings, not one who will be an increase to his sorrows."

  "That which is done is done."

  "My son, this thing is not done."

  "She has my plighted word, father. Is not that enough?"

  "Nina is a good girl. I will say for her that she is very good. I havewished that you might have brought to my house as your wife the childof my old friend Baltazar Loth; but if that may not be, I would havetaken Nina willingly by the hand--had she been one of us."

  "It may be that God will open her eyes."

  "Anton, I would not have her eyes opened by anything so weak as herlove for a man. But I have said that she was good. She will hearreason; and when she shall know that her marriage among us would bringtrouble on us, she will restrain her wishes. Speak to her, Anton, andsee if it be not so."

  "Not for all the wealth which all our people own in Bohemia! Father, todo so would be to demand, not to ask. If she love me, could she refusesuch a request were I to ask it?"

  "I will speak a word to Nina, my son, and the request shall come fromher."

  "And if it does, I will never yield to it. For her sake I would notyield, for I know she loves me. Neither for my own would I yield; foras truly as I worship God, I love her better than all the world beside.She is to me my cup of water when I am hot and athirst, my morsel ofbread when I am faint with hunger. Her voice is the only music which Ilove. The touch of her hand is so fresh that it cools me when I am infever. The kiss of her lips is so sweet and balmy that it cures whenI shake with an ague fit. To think of her when I am out among menfighting for my own, is such a joy, that now, methinks now, that I havehad it belonging to me, I could no longer fight were I to lose it. No.father; she shall not be taken from me. I love her, and I will keepher."

  Oh that Nina could have heard him! How would all her sorrows have fledfrom her, and left her happy in her poverty! But Anton Trendellsohn,though he could speak after this manner to his father, could hardlybring himself to talk of his feelings to the woman who would have givenher eyes, could she for his sake have spared them, to hear him. Now andagain, indeed, he would say a word, and then would frown and becomegloomy, as though angry with himself for such outward womanlyexpression of what he felt. As it was, the words fell upon ears whichthey delighted not. "Then, my son, you will live to rue the day inwhich you first saw her," said the elder Jew. "She will be a bone ofcontention in your way that will separate you from all your friends.You will become neither Jew nor Christian, and will be odious alike toboth. And she will be the same."

  "Then, father, we will bear our sorrows together."

  "Yes; and what happens when sorrows come from such causes? The manlearns to hate the woman who has caused them, and ill-uses her, andfeels himself to be a Cain upon the earth, condemned by all, but bynone so much as by himself. Do you think that you have strength to bearthe contempt of all those around you?"

  Anton waited a moment or two before he answered, and then spoke veryslowly. "If it be necessary to bear so much, I will at least make theeffort. It may be that I shall find the strength."

  "Nothing then that your father says to you avails aught?"

  "Nothing, father, on that matter. You should have spoken sooner."

  "Then you must go your own way. As for me, I must look for another sonto bear the burden of my years." And so they parted.

  Anton Trendellsohn understood well the meaning of the old man's threat.He was quite alive to the fact that his father had expressed hisintention to give his wealth and his standing in trade and the businessof his house to some younger Jew, who would be more true than his ownson to the traditional customs of their tribes. There was Ruth Jacobi,his granddaughter--the only child of the house--who had already reachedan age at which she might be betrothed; and there was Samuel Loth,the son of Baltazar Loth, old Trendellsohn's oldest friend. AntonTrendellsohn did not doubt who might be the adopted child to be takento fill his place. It has been already explained that there was nopartnership actually existing between the two Trendellsohns. By degreesthe son had slipt into the father's place, and the business by whichthe house had grown rich had for the last five or six years beenmanaged chiefly by him. But the actual results of the son's industryand the son's thrift were still in the possession of the father. Theold man might no doubt go far towards ruining his son if he were sominded.

  Dreams of a high ambition had, from very early years, flitted acrossthe mind of the younger Trendellsohn till they had nearly formedthemselves into a settled purpose. He had heard of Jews in Vienna, inParis, and in London, who were as true to their religion as any Jew ofPrague, but who did not live immured in a Jews' quarter, like lepersseparate and alone in some loathed corner of a city otherwise clean.These men went abroad into the world as men, using the wealth withwhich their industry had been blessed, openly as the Christians usedit. And they lived among Christians as one man should live with hisfellow-men--on equal terms, giving and taking, honouring and honoured.As yet it was not so with the Jews of Prague, who were still bound totheir old narrow streets, to their dark houses, to their mean modesof living, and who, worst of all, were still subject to the isolatedignominy of Judaism. In Prague a Jew was still a Pariah. Anton's fatherwas rich--very rich. Anton hardly knew what was the extent of hisfather's wealth, but he did know that it was great. In his father'stime, however, no change could be made. He did not scruple to speak tothe old man of these things; but he spoke of them rather as dreams, oras distant hopes, than as being the basis of any purpose of his own.His father would merely say that the old house, looking out upon theancient synagogue, must last him his time, and that the changes ofwhich Anton spoke must be postponed--not till he died--but till suchtime as he should fee
l it right to give up the things of this world.Anton Trendellsohn, who knew his father well, had resolved that hewould wait patiently for everything till his father should have gone tohis last home, knowing that nothing but death would close the old man'sinterest in the work of his life. But he had been content to wait--towait, to think, to dream, and only in part to hope. He still communedwith himself daily as to that House of Trendellsohn which might,perhaps, be heard of in cities greater than Prague, and which mightrival in the grandeur of its wealth those mighty commercial names whichhad drowned the old shame of the Jew in the new glory of their greatdoings. To be a Jew in London, they had told him, was almost betterthan to be a Christian, provided that he was rich, and knew the waysof trade--was better for such purposes as were his purposes. AntonTrendellsohn believed that he would be rich, and was sure that he knewthe ways of trade; and therefore he nursed his ambition, and meditatedwhat his action should be when the days of his freedom should come tohim.

  Then Nina Balatka had come across his path. To be a Jew, always a Jew,in all things a Jew, had been ever a part of his great dream. It was asimpossible to him as it would be to his father to forswear the religionof his people. To go forth and be great in commerce by deserting hiscreed would have been nothing to him. His ambition did not desirewealth so much as the possession of wealth in Jewish hands, withoutthose restrictions upon its enjoyment to which Jews under his own eyehad ever been subjected. It would have delighted him to think that, bymeans of his work, there should no longer be a Jews' quarter in Prague,but that all Prague should be ennobled and civilised and made beautifulby the wealth of Jews. Wealth must be his means, and therefore he wasgreedy; but wealth was not his last or only aim, and therefore hisgreed did not utterly destroy his heart. Then Nina Balatka had comeacross his path, and he was compelled to shape his dreams anew. Howcould a Jew among Jews hold up his head as such who had taken to hisbosom a Christian wife?

  But again he shaped his dreams aright--so far aright that he couldstill build the castles of his imagination to his own liking. Ninashould be his wife. It might be that she would follow the creed of herhusband, and then all would be well. In those far cities to which hewould go, it would hardly in such case be known that she had been borna Christian; or else he would show the world around him, both Jews andChristians, how well a Christian and a Jew might live together. Tocrush the prejudice which had dealt so hardly with his people--to makea Jew equal in all things to a Christian--this was his desire; and howcould this better be fulfilled than by his union with a Christian? Onething at least was fixed with him--one thing was fixed, even though itshould mar his dreams. He had taken the Christian girl to be part ofhimself, and nothing should separate them. His father had spoken oftento him of the danger which he would incur by marrying a Christian, buthad never before uttered any word approaching to a personal threat.Anton had felt himself to be so completely the mainspring of thebusiness in which they were both engaged--was so perfectly aware thathe was so regarded by all the commercial men of Prague--that he hadhardly regarded the absence of any positive possession in his father'swealth as detrimental to him. He had been willing that it should be hisfather's while his father lived, knowing that any division would bedetrimental to them both. He had never even asked his father for apartnership, taking everything for granted. Even now he could not quitebelieve that his father was in earnest. It could hardly be possiblethat the work of his own hands should be taken from him because he hadchosen a bride for himself! But this he felt, that should his fatherpersevere in the intention which he had expressed, he would be upheldin it by every Jew of Prague. "Dark, ignorant, and foolish," Anton saidto himself, speaking of those among whom he lived; "it is their prideto live in disgrace, while all the honours of the world are open tothem if they chose to take them!"

  He did not for a moment think of altering his course of action inconsequence of what his father had said to him. Indeed, as regarded thebusiness of the house, it would stand still altogether were he to alterit. No successor could take up the work when he should leave it. Noother hand could continue the webs which were of his weaving. So hewent forth, as the errands of the day called him, soon after hisfather's last words were spoken, and went through his work as thoughhis own interest in it were in no danger.

  On that evening nothing was said on the subject between him and hisfather, and on the next morning he started immediately after breakfastfor the Ross Markt, in order that he might see Karil Zamenoy, as he hadsaid that he would do. The papers, should he get them, would belong tohis father, and would at once be put into his father's hands. But thefeeling that it might not be for his own personal advantage to placethem there did not deter him. His father was an old man, and old menwere given to threaten. He at least would go on with his duty.

  It was about eleven o'clock in the day when he entered the open door ofthe office in the Ross Markt, and found Ziska and a young clerk sittingopposite to each other at their desks. Anton took off his hat and bowedto Ziska, whom he knew slightly, and asked the young man if his fatherwere within.

  "My father is here," said Ziska, "but I do not know whether he can seeyou."

  "You will ask him, perhaps," said Trendellsohn.

  "Well, he is engaged. There is a lady with him."

  "Perhaps he will make an appointment with me, and I will call again. Ifhe will name an hour, I will come at his own time."

  "Cannot you say to me, Herr Trendellsohn, that which you wish to say tohim?"

  "Not very well."

  "You know that I am in partnership with my father."

  "He and you are happy to be so placed together. But if your father canspare me five minutes, I will take it from him as a favour."

  Then, with apparent reluctance, Ziska came down from his seat and wentinto the inner room. There he remained some time, while Trendellsohnwas standing, hat in hand, in the outer office. If the changes whichhe hoped to effect among his brethren could be made, a Jew in Pragueshould, before long, be asked to sit down as readily as a Christian.But he had not been asked to sit, and he therefore stood holding hishat in his hand during the ten minutes that Ziska was away. At lastyoung Zamenoy returned, and, opening the door, signified to the Jewthat his father would see him at once if he would enter. Nothing morehad been said about the lady, and there, when Trendellsohn went intothe room, he found the lady, who was no other than Madame Zamenoyherself. A little family council had been held, and it had been settledamong them that the Jew should be seen and heard.

  "So, sir, you are Anton Trendellsohn," began Madame Zamenoy, as soon asZiska was gone--for Ziska had been told to go--and the door was shut.

  "Yes, madame; I am Anton Trendellsohn. I had not expected the honour ofseeing you, but I wish to say a few words on business to your husband."

  "There he is; you can speak to him."

  "Anything that I can do, I shall be very happy," said Karil Zamenoy,who had risen from his chair to prevent the necessity of having to askthe Jew to sit down.

  "Herr Zamenoy," began the Jew, "you are, I think, aware that my fatherhas purchased from your friend and brother-in-law, Josef Balatka,certain houses in the Kleinseite, in one of which the old man stilllives."

  "Upon my word, I know nothing about it," said Zamenoy--"nothing, thatis to say, in the way of business;" and the man of business laughed."Mind I do not at all deny that you did so--you or your father, or thetwo together. Your people are getting into their hands lots of housesall over the town; but how they do it nobody knows. They are not boughtin fair open market."

  "This purchase was made by contract, and the price was paid in fullbefore the houses were put into our hands."

  "They are not in your hands now, as far as I know."

  "Not the one, certainly, in which Balatka lives. Motives offriendship--"

  "Friendship!" said Madame Zamenoy, with a sneer.

  "And now motives of love," continued Anton, "have induced us to leavethe use of that house with Josef Balatka."

  "Love!" said Madame Zamenoy, s
pringing from her chair; love indeed! "Donot talk to me of love for a Jew."

  "My dear, my dear!" said her husband, expostulating.

  "How dares he come here to talk of his love? It is filthy--it is worsethan filthy--it is profane."

  "I came here, madame," continued Anton, "not to talk of my love, but ofcertain documents or title-deeds respecting those houses, which shouldbe at present in my father's custody. I am told that your husband hasthem in his safe custody."

  "My husband has them not," said Madame Zamenoy.

  "Stop, my dear--stop," said the husband.

  "Not that he would be bound to give them up to you if he had got them,or that he would do so; but he has them not."

  "In whose hands are they then?"

  "That is for you to find out, not for us to tell you."

  "Why should not all the world be told, so that the proper owner mayhave his own?"

  "It is not always so easy to find out who is the proper owner," saidZamenoy the elder.

  "You have seen this contract before, I think, said Trendellsohn,bringing forth a written paper.

  "I will not look at it now at any rate. I have nothing to do with it,and I will have nothing to do with it. You have heard Madame Zamenoydeclare that the deed which you seek is not here. I cannot say whetherit is here or no. I do not say--as you will be pleased to remember. Ifit were here it would be in safe keeping for my brother-in-law, andonly to him could it be given."

  "But will you not say whether it is in your hands? You know well thatJosef Balatka is ill, and cannot attend to such matters."

  "And who has made him ill, and what has made him ill?" said MadameZamenoy. "Ill! of course he is ill. Is it not enough to make any manill to be told that his daughter is to marry a Jew?"

  "I have not come hither to speak of that," said Trendellsohn.

  "But I speak of it; and I tell you this, Anton Trendellsohn--you shallnever marry that girl."

  "Be it so; but let me at any rate have that which is my own."

  "Will you give her up if it is given to you?"

  "It is here then?"

  "No; it is not here. But will you abandon this mad thought if I tellyou where it is?"

  "No; certainly not."

  "What a fool the man is!" said Madame Zamenoy. "He comes to us for whathe calls his property because he wants to marry the girl, and she isdeceiving him all the while. Go to Nina Balatka, Trendellsohn, and shewill tell you who has the document. She will tell you where it is, ifit suits her to do so."

  "She has told me, and she knows that it is here."

  "She knows nothing of the kind, and she has lied. She has lied in orderthat she may rob you. Jew as you are, she will be too many for you. Shewill rob you, with all her seeming simplicity."

  "I trust her as I do my own soul," said Trendellsohn.

  "Very well; I tell you that she, and she only, knows where thesepapers are. For aught I know, she has them herself. I believe that shehas them. Ziska," said Madame Zamenoy, calling aloud--"Ziska, comehither;" and Ziska entered the room. "Ziska, who has the title-deedsof your uncle's houses in the Kleinseite?" Ziska hesitated a momentwithout answering. "You know, if anybody does," said his mother; "tellthis man, since he is so anxious, who has got them."

  "I do not know why I should tell him my cousin's secrets."

  "Tell him, I say. It is well that he should know."

  "Nina has them, as I believe," said Ziska, still hesitating.

  "Nina has them!" said Trendellsohn.

  "Yes; Nina Balatka," said Madame Zamenoy. "We tell you, to the best ofour knowledge at least. At any rate, they are not here."

  "It is impossible that Nina should have them," said Trendellsohn. "Howshould she have got them?"

  "That is nothing to us," said Madame Zamenoy. "The whole thing isnothing to us. You have heard all that we can tell you, and you hadbetter go."

  "You have heard more than I would have told you myself," said Ziska,"had I been left to my opinion."

  Trendellsohn stood pausing for a moment, and then he turned to theelder Zamenoy. "What do you say, sir? Is it true that these papers areat the house in the Kleinseite?"

  "I say nothing," said Karil Zamenoy. "It seems to me that too much hasbeen said already."

  "A great deal too much," said the lady. "I do not know why I shouldhave allowed myself to be surprised into giving you any information atall. You wish to do us the heaviest injury that one man can do another,and I do not know why we should speak to you at all. Now you had bettergo."

  "Yes; you had better go," said Ziska, holding the door open, andlooking as though he were inclined to threaten. Trendellsohn pausedfor a moment on the threshold, fixing his eyes full upon those of hisrival; but Ziska neither spoke nor made any further gesture, and thenthe Jew left the house.

  "I would have told him nothing," said the elder Zamenoy when they wereleft alone.

  "My dear, you don't understand; indeed you do not," said his wife. "Nostone should be left unturned to prevent such a horrid marriage asthis. There is nothing I would not say--nothing I would not do."

  "But I do not see that you are doing anything."

  "Leave this little thing to me, my dear--to me and Ziska. It isimpossible that you should do everything yourself. In such a matter asthis, believe me that a woman is best."

  "But I hate anything that is really dishonest."

  "There shall be no dishonesty--none in the world. You don't supposethat I want to get the dirty old tumble-down houses. God forbid! Butyou would not give up everything to a Jew! Oh, I hate them! I do hatethem! Anything is fair against a Jew." If such was Madame Zamenoy'sordinary doctrine, it may well be understood that she would scruple atusing no weapon against a Jew who was meditating so great an injuryagainst her as this marriage with her niece. After this littlediscussion old Zamenoy said no more, and Madame Zamenoy went home tothe Windberg-gasse.

  Trendellsohn, as he walked homewards, was lost in amazement. He whollydisbelieved the statement that the document he desired was in Nina'shands, but he thought it possible that it might be in the house inthe Kleinseite. It was, after all, on the cards that old Balatka wasdeceiving him. The Jew was by nature suspicious, though he was alsogenerous. He could be noble in his confidence, and at the same timecould become at a moment distrustful. He could give without grudging,and yet grudge the benefits which came of his giving. Neither henor his father had ever positively known in whose custody were thetitle-deeds which he was so anxious to get into his own hands. Balatkahad said that they must be with the Zamenoys, but even Balatka had neverspoken as of absolute knowledge. Nina, indeed, had declared positivelythat they were in the Ross Markt, saying that Ziska had so stated indirect terms; but there might be a mistake in this. At any rate hewould interrogate Nina, and if there were need, would not spare the oldman any questions that could lead to the truth. Trendellsohn, as hethought of the possibility of such treachery on Balatka's part, feltthat, without compunction, he could be very cruel, even to an old man,under such circumstances as those.