Mr. Moss then proceeded to unfold the nature of the mission he had undertaken for Mr. Gordon, with the particulars of which the reader has been made acquainted in the earlier chapters of this story. Aaron listened with attention and astonishment: with attention because of his anxiety to ascertain whether the proposal was likely to extricate him from his cruel position, with astonishment because the wildest stretch of his imagination would not have enabled him to guess the purport of the singular disclosure. When Mr. Moss ceased speaking the afflicted man rose and paced the room in distress and disappointment.

"I told you I should startle you," said Mr. Moss, with a shrewd observance of his friend's demeanour, and, for the good of that friend, preparing for a battle. "What do you say to it?"

"It is impossible--impossible!" muttered Aaron. "I told you also," continued Mr. Moss, calmly, "not to decide hastily or rashly. In the way of ordinary business I should not, as I have said, have dreamt of coming to you, and I should not have undertaken the mission. But the position in which you are placed is not ordinary, and you are bound to consider the matter not upon its merits alone, but in relation to your circumstances. I need not say I shall make nothing out of it myself."

"Indeed you need not," said Aaron, pressing Mr. Moss's hand. "Pure friendship has brought you here, I know, I know; but surely you must see that it is impossible for me to assume the responsibility."

"I see nothing of the kind. Honestly and truly, Cohen, I look upon it as a windfall, and if you turn your back upon it you will repent it all your life. What is it I urge you to do? A crime?"

"No, no, I do not say that. Heaven forbid!"

"You are naturally startled and agitated. Cohen, you are a man of intelligence and discernment. My wife has often said, 'If Mr. Cohen were a rich man he would be one of the heads of our people.' She is right; she always is. But there are times when a man cannot exercise his judgment, when he is so upset that his mind gets off its balance. It has happened to me, and I have said afterwards, 'Moss, you are a fool': it happens to all of us. Let me put the matter clearly before you. Have you ever been in such trouble as you are in now?"

"Never in my life."

"Misfortune after misfortune has fallen upon you. All your money is gone; everything is gone; you can't get through this week without assistance. You have tried all your friends, and they cannot help you; you have tried me, and I can only offer you what will meet the necessities of the next few days. It is known that you are badly off, and you cannot get credit; if you could it would cut you to the soul, because you know you would be owing money that there was no expectation of your being able to pay. You would be ashamed to look people in the face; you would lose your sense of self-respect, and every fresh step you take would be a step down instead of up. Poor Rachel is lying sick almost to death; she has a stronger claim than ever upon your love, upon your wisdom. The doctor has told you what she requires, and of the possible consequences if you are unable to carry out his directions. Cohen, not one of these things must be lost sight of in the answer you give to what I propose."

Great beads of perspiration were on Aaron's forehead as he murmured, "I do not lose sight of them. They are like daggers in my heart."

"Strangely and unexpectedly," pursued Mr. Moss, "a chance offers itself that will extricate you out of all your difficulties. You will not only receive immediately a large sum of money, but you will be in receipt of a hundred a year, sufficient to keep your family in a modest way. What are you asked to do in return for this good fortune? To take care of an innocent child, who has no one to look after her, who will never be claimed, and about whom you will never be troubled. You can engage a servant to attend to her, and when you explain everything to Rachel she will approve of what you have done. Before I came to you, Cohen, I consulted a gentleman--Dr. Spenlove--who has a kind heart and correct principles, and he agreed with me that the transaction was perfectly honourable. I have no doubt of it myself, or I should not be here. Be persuaded, Cohen; it will be a benevolent, as well as a wise, act, and all your difficulties will be at an end. What is it Shakespeare says? 'There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood,----' you know the rest. Why, there are thousands who would jump at the opportunity. Come, now, for Rachel's sake!" Mr. Moss was genuinely sincere in his advice, and he spoke with earnestness and feeling.

"The child is a girl, Mr. Moss?"

"A dear little girl, of the same age as your own."

"Hush! You forget. This little stranger is born of Christian parents."

"That is no crime, Cohen."

"Do I say it is? But we are Jews. The stipulation is that she should be brought up as one of our family; and, indeed, it could scarcely be otherwise. She would live her life in a Jewish household. It is that I am thinking of Mr. Moss, I am at war with my conscience."

"She will be none the worse off for living with you and Rachel. Your character is well known, and Rachel is the soul of kindness. You would be committing no sin, Cohen."

"I am not so sure."

"Then who is to know? You and Rachel are alone, and when she is able to be moved you will take her for a time to another place. You need not return here. Rachel's health restored, you should go to London, or Liverpool, or Manchester, where your talents would have a larger field. I always thought it wrong for you to bury yourself in so small a town as this. There is no scope for you in it; you would never make your fortune here."

"If I go from this place I shall not return to it. You ask who is to know. Mr. Moss, God would know; Rachel and I would know. How can I reconcile it with my conscience to bring up a child in a faith in which she is not born? It would weigh heavily upon me."

"That is because your views are so strict. I do not see why it should weigh heavily upon you. If it were a boy I should not press it upon you; but girls are different. There is very little for them to learn. To pray--there is only one God. To be good and virtuous--there is only one code of morality. You know that well enough."

"I do know it, but still I cannot reconcile it with my conscience."

"In your position," continued Mr. Moss, perceiving that Aaron was wavering, "I should not hesitate; I should thank God that such a chance fell in my way. Even as it is, if I did not have eleven children, and expecting the twelfth, I would take this lamb into my fold--I would indeed, Cohen. But my hands are full. Cohen, let me imagine a case. It is a cold and bitter night, and the world is filled with poor struggling creatures, with little children who are being brought up the wrong way. Rachel is asleep upstairs. You are here alone. Suddenly you fancy you hear a cry in the street, the cry of a babe. You go to the door, and upon the step you see an infant lying, unsheltered, without a protector. What would you do?"

"I should bring it into my house."

"With pity in your heart, Cohen."

"I hope so. With pity in my heart."

"Poor as you are, you would share what you have with the deserted babe; you would nourish it, you would cherish it. You would say to Rachel, 'I heard a cry outside the house on this bitter night, and upon the doorstep I discovered this poor babe; I brought it in, and gave it shelter.' What would Rachel answer?"

"She is a tender-hearted woman; she would answer that I did what was right."
............