CHAPTER XXVIII.

REVISITS GOSPORT.

The years that followed until Ruth was grown to womanhood and Joseph was a young man were eventful years for Aaron Cohen and his family. He returned to England the possessor of a moderate fortune, but he had no idea of retiring from the active duties of life. To such a man idleness would have been little less than a living death, and taking up his residence in London, he embarked very soon in enterprises of magnitude. The knowledge he had gained during his partnership in France was of immense value to him, and in conjunction with other men of technical resource he contracted for public works in various parts of the country. His fortune grew, and he gradually became wealthy. He moved from one house to another, and each move was a step up the ladder. A house in Prince's Gate came into the market, and Aaron purchased it, and furnished it with taste and elegance. There he entertained liberally, but not lavishly, for his judgment led him always to the happy mean, and the house became the resort of men and women of intellect and culture. Mr. Moss, who was wedded to Portsmouth, and continued to flourish there, paid periodical visits to London, and was always welcome in the home. He was as musically inclined as ever, and opportunities were afforded him of hearing the finest singers and players at Prince's Gate. On two or three occasions Aaron readily consented to give an introduction through a concert held in his house to a young aspirant in whom Mr. Moss took an interest, and to other budding talent in the same direction Aaron's rooms were always open. The only conversation between Mr. Moss and Aaron in relation to their intimacy in Gosport occurred some three years after the latter had taken up his residence in London. Aaron had just completed a successful contract, and business had called Mr. Moss to the metropolis.

"I heard to-day," said Mr. Moss, "that you had cleared six or seven thousand pounds by the contract."

"The balance on the right side," replied Aaron, "is a little over seven thousand."

"I congratulate you. The gentleman I spoke with said that if he had had the contract he would have made a profit of three times as much."

"It is likely."

"Then why didn't you do it, Cohen?"

Aaron smiled and shook his head.

"Let us speak of another subject."

"But I want to get at the bottom of this. I should like you to know what the gentleman said about it. His view is that you are ruining the labor market."

"In what way?"

"By high wages and short hours."

"That is a new view."

"You do pay high wages, Cohen, according to what everybody says."

"Oh! it's everybody now as well as your gentleman friend. I pay good wages, and I don't consider them high."

"And the hours are not as long as they might be."

"They are reasonably long enough. If I am satisfied and my workmen are satisfied I give offense to no man."

"You are wrong, Cohen; you give offense to the capitalist."

"I regret to hear it."

"The idea is that you are ruining the capitalist."

"Oh! I am ruining the capitalist now. But if that is the case he is no longer a capitalist."

"You know what I mean. I don't pretend to understand these things as you do, because I have not studied political economy."

"I have, and believe me it is a horse that has been ridden too hard. Mischief will come of it. Apply your common sense. In what way would your friend have made twenty-one thousand pounds out of the contract instead of seven thousand?"

"By getting his labor cheaper and by making his own men work longer hours."

"Exactly. And the difference of fourteen thousand pounds would have gone into his pocket instead of the pockets of his workmen?"

"Yes, of course."

"Ask yourself if that is fair. The wages I pay my men are sufficient to enable them to maintain a home decently, to bring up their families decently, and perhaps, if they are wise and thrifty--only, mind you, if they are wise and thrifty--to make a small provision for old age, when they are no longer able to work. Their hours are long enough to give them just a little leisure, which they can employ partly in reasonable amusement and partly in intellectual improvement. I have gone thoroughly into these matters, and know what I am talking about. Men who do their work honestly--and I employ and will keep no others--have a right to fair wages and a little leisure, and I decline to grind my men down after the fashion of the extreme political economist. The contract I have just completed was tendered for in an open market. My tender was the lowest and was accepted. I make a considerable sum of money out of it, and each of my men contributes a mickle toward it. They believe I have treated them fairly, and I am certain they have treated me fairly. Upon those lines I intend to make my way. Your sweater is a political economist. I am not a sweater. It is the course I pursued in France, and by it I laid the foundation of what may prove to be a great fortune. I am tendering now for other contracts, and I shall obtain my share, and shall pursue precisely the same course. Mr. Moss, you and I are Jews. At a great disadvantage because of the nature of your business, which I myself once intended to follow, you have made yourself respected in the town in which you reside. I, on my part, wish to make myself respected here. Surely there is no race in the world to which it is greater honor, and should be a greater pride, to belong than the Jewish race; and by my conduct through life I trust I shall do nothing to tarnish that honor or lower that pride. It may or may not be for that reason that I decline to follow the political economist to the depths into which he has fallen."

Mr. Moss' eyes gleamed; Aaron had touched a sympathetic chord; the men shook hands and smiled cordially at each other.

"When you were in Gosport," said Mr. Moss, "I ought to have asked you to go into partnership with me."

"If you had made me the offer," responded Aaron, "I'm afraid I should have accepted it."

"Lucky for you that I missed my opportunity. It is a fortunate thing that you went to France when you did."

"Very fortunate. It opened up a new career for me; it restored my dear wife to health; my son was born there."

"About the poor child I brought to you in Gosport, Cohen; we have never spoken of it."

"That is true."

"Did the lawyers ever write to you again?"

"Never."

"And I have heard nothing. The iron box I gave you--you have it still, I suppose?"

"I have it still."

"I have often wondered what it contains, and whether the mother will ever call for it."

"If she does it shall be handed to her in the same condition as you handed it to me. But she does not know in whose possession it is?"

"No, she does not know, and she can only obtain the information from Mr. Gordon's lawyers. My lips are sealed."

Aaron considered a moment. This opening up of the dreaded subject made him feel as if a sword were hanging over his head, but his sense of justice impelled him to say, "It may happen that the mother will wish to have the box restored to her, and that the lawyers may refuse to give her the information that it is in my possession. She may seek elsewhere for a clew, and may be directed to you."

"I shall not enlighten her," said Mr. Moss.

"My desire is that you do enlighten her. It is her property, and I have no right to retain it."

"Very well, Cohen, if you wish it; but nothing is more unlikely than your ever being troubled with her, or ever seeing her. She has forgotten all about it long ago."

"You are mistaken. A mother never forgets."

"And now, Cohen, I have a message for you from Mrs. Moss. She is burning to see you and cannot come to London. We are about to have an addition to our family; that will be the sixteenth. Upon my word, I don't know when we are going to stop. Is it too much to ask you to pay us a visit?"

"Not at all; it will give me great pleasure. When?"

"It will give Mrs. Moss greater pleasure, Cohen," said Mr. Moss, rubbing his hands joyously. "I am going back the day after to-morrow. Will that time suit you?"

"Yes, I will accompany you."

The visit was paid, and lasted three days. Before he returned to London Aaron went to Gosport. Nothing was changed in the ancient town. The house he had occupied had been rebuilt; the streets were the same, the names over the shops were unaltered. He saw Mr. Whimpole in his shop attending to a customer, and saw other men and women whom he recognized, but to whom he did not speak. He made his way to the churchyard where his child was buried, and he stood and prayed over the grave.

"Forgive me, O Lord of Hosts," he said audibly, "that I should have laid my child to rest in a Christian churchyard. It was to save my beloved. Forgive me! Have mercy upon me!"