I will never be yours, I tell you, never. Do you think,
after knowing him and hearing him speak,--after watching him wounded on
his pillow, and glorious in battle" (her eyes melted and kindled again
as she spoke these words), "I can mate with such as you? Go. Leave me
to myself. I am none of yours. I love him--I love him. Fate divides
us--long, long miles separate us; and I know we may never meet again.
But I love and bless him always. Yes, always. My prayers are his; my
faith is his. Yes, my faith is your faith, Wilfrid--Wilfrid! I have no
kindred more,--I am a Christian!"
At this last word there was such a row in the assembly, as my feeble pen
would in vain endeavor to depict. Old Isaac staggered back in a fit,
and nobody took the least notice of him. Groans, curses, yells of men,
shrieks of women, filled the room with such a furious jabbering, as
might have appalled any heart less stout than Rebecca's; but that brave
woman was prepared for all; expecting, and perhaps hoping, that death
would be her instant lot. There was but one creature who pitied her, and
that was her cousin and father's clerk, little Ben Davids, who was but
thirteen, and had only just begun to carry a bag, and whose crying and
boo-hooing, as she finished speaking, was drowned in the screams and
maledictions of the elder Israelites.
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