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VEILS ISIS
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THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
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THE VEILS OF ISIS FRANK HARRIS
THE VEILS OF ISIS
AND OTHER STORIES
BY
FRANK HARRIS
Author of "The Bomb," "Montes, the Matador," "Unpath'd Waters," etc.
NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
Copyright, 1915, By George H. Doran Company
CONTENTS
PAGE
The Veils of Isis 9
The Yellow Ticket 27
The Ugly Duckling 49
A Daughter of Eve 79
Isaac and Rebecca 149
A French Artist 185
A Fool's Paradise 217
Within the Shadow 241
A Miracle and No Wonder 267
A Prostitute .......... 285
The Kiss" ... k .... 301
H
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The Veils of Isis
The Veils of Isis
TOWARD the end of the second dynasty a youth whom his father and mother had named Amanthes came to manhood near the village of Assouan on the Nile. From childhood on he had been self-willed and passionate beyond the ordi- nary, and growing in boldness and intelligence he took the lead of the other young men. Because of his superiority his father and mother, though poor cultivators, were persuaded to devote him to the priesthood. And as the young man was nothing loath they took him one day to the Temple of Osiris. The Chief Priest received them with kindness, for the youth's promise had been noised abroad and he spoke to them warmly in favor of the God whom he worshiped and His divine mission: he told them how Osiris had come down from Heaven to help men and had suffered Death for their sakes through the Powers of Darkness. With tears in his eyes he told of the resurrection of the God and how at the last He should judge the dead.
9
The Veils of Isis
Scarcely had he finished when Amanthes cried :
"Can a God be defeated? Why didn't Osiris conquer the Darkness?" and other such things.
And when his father and mother, terrified by his boldness, tried to restrain him, for the Chief Priest held up his hands in deprecation, Amanthes went on stoutly:
"I can't adore a God who accepts defeat; and I don't fear judge or judgment. I want to worship Isis, the woman-goddess, the giver of life, for her creed of joy and hope and love must last as long as the earth lasts and the sun gives light."
The Chief Priest pointed out that the temples to Osiris were larger and more important than any other, and the service of the God was nobler and more highly rewarded, but Amanthes would not be persuaded, insisting that the only divinity he could worship was Isis, to whose service he was willing to devote himself night and day with all his heart.
Impressed by his earnestness and enthusiasm, the Chief Priest at length decided that it might be as well if Amanthes went down the river to Memphis to the great Temple of Isis, and as the young man took fire at the suggestion he offered to give him letters to the High Priest which would insure his being accepted, and he excused himself afterward 10
The Veils of Isis
for this weakness by saying that he had never met so eloquent a youth or so sincere a calling. Aman- thes, he said, seemed careless about everything else, but the moment the name of Isis was mentioned his eyes glowed, his face became intense, and it really looked as if the youth were inspired.
Ten days later Amanthes journeyed down the river to Memphis, and presented himself before the authorities of the Temple of Isis. But here his passion carried little persuasion, and at first it seemed as if his desire would be thwarted. The High Priest read the letter of his colleague and, after one glance at Amanthes, proposed to engage him as a servitor in the Temple, but thought it right, at the same time, to warn him that only the best and noblest were selected to wait on the God- dess herself, and that before one could hope to enter her immediate Presence one must have spent half a lifetime in the temple.
"It took me," he said, "nearly five years to learn the routine of the service."
Amanthes listened with wide eyes and bowed in silence to the High Priest's decision, but from the very day he entered the temple he set himself to learn all the ritual and ceremonial forms, and de- voted himself with such passion to whatever was
II
The Veils of Isis
given to him to do that he became a marked man among the younger priests.
Though he held himself aloof from all his com- rades, he was not much disliked by them, for when- ever his father and mother sent him presents of dates or dainties he shared them out among the others, contenting himself always with the simple sustenance provided in the Temple.
To his father and mother he wrote but once, tell- ing them to look upon him as dead, for he had given himself to the service of the Goddess with heart and life and for him there was no looking back.
A few months after his admission to the Temple, Amanthes took a chance opportunity and begged the High Priest to enroll him among the immediate servants of the Goddess.
"I know all the forms and ceremonies by heart," he said, "and am eager now to learn the will of the Goddess herself."
The High Priest was greatly astonished; but though he found by examining the young man that he was indeed a master of all the services, he would not grant his request.
"You have still much to learn," he said, "before you can hope for such honor, and the next test is difficult," and on that he took Amanthes to the 12
The Veils of Isis
library of the Temple and showed him a room filled with great rolls of papyrus, and priests studying them.
"They are all at work," he explained, "inter- preting the divine Oracles."
"But where are the Sayings of the Goddess?" cried Amanthes, as if nothing else mattered.
"Here," said the High Priest, turning over one small yellow roll, "are the sacred words of the Di- vine One, the words which have been commented upon by wise men for thousands of years, and be- fore we can believe that anyone is worthy to enter the shrine of the Goddess he must first show his fit- ness by interpreting her Oracles, or correcting some of the commentators who have gone before."
"Let me first see the Goddess and learn her will," argued the young man; "when I know her I shall be able to interpret her words."
"Presumption!" cried the High Priest, "mortals can only get glimpses of the Divine, and can never know the divine Will completely, any more than they can see the Goddess unveiled."
All the young man's pleading was met with a steady refusal: it was unheard of that any priest should be admitted to the Shrine of the Deity before he had passed at least ten years in the Temple.
13
The Veils of Isis
"I myself," said the High Priest at length, "knew all the Oracles and had written two great books upon them before I was admitted in my twelfth year of service, and even then I only served at the door, and never entered the Shrine but with eyes bound so that I might not look upon the naked beauty of the Goddess."
Amanthes pleaded with him as one pleads for life; but still the High Priest remained obdurate.
"There are the Oracles," he said, pointing to the books; "distinguish yourself and I will shorten the time of your probation as much as I dare, or as cus- tom will allow."
Amanthes once more bowed his head and took his place among the students.
In the seventh month of the same year Amanthes interpreted a saying of the Goddess with such free- dom that all the readers cried blasphemy against him, and brought him before the High Priest to an- swer for the crime. Amanthes defended himself with much boldness and many good reasons, till the High Priest cried :
"You read the Oracles as if the Goddess were a woman and nothing more, and that is wrong."
"How else can they be read?" retorted Amanthes. "If she is not a woman one can never understand
14
The Veils of Isis
her, and if she is more than a woman we men can only get to the divine through the human."
The High Priest himself was shaken, and hesi- tated to decide, for in the course of the argument he had found that the young man had read the sacred Roll from beginning to end, and knew every word of the Goddess by heart.
"How did you learn it," he couldn't help asking, "in so short a time?"
Amanthes only looked at him smiling, by way of answer, and again begged the Chief Priest to admit him now to the service of the Goddess, for he had surely proved himself and been patient. There was nothing to gain by waiting.
But immemorial custom was against him and the High Priest resented his insistence.
"You are too daring," he said at length; "it may be well to use boldness to a woman, but to a Goddess you must show reverence."
"No, no," cried Amanthes, "reverence to the woman, who doesn't expect it and will be won by it, boldness to the Goddess."
"Blasphemy," cried the High Priest; "you are on a dangerous way and I must not encourage you," and motioning to the great bronze door, behind them, he added: "Go on diligently as you have be-
15
The Veils of Isis
gun and it will be open to you perhaps after five years."
"Five years!" repeated Amanthes sadly; "five years of life and youth lost: five years!"
"That door has never opened in less," replied the High Priest solemnly, but as he spoke Amanthes gripped his arm, crying:
"Look, look!" and when the High Priest turned he found the door of the Shrine standing open.
"Strange," said the old man; "it must be some accident; I will shut it," and he seized the handle, but the door would not be moved; and as he stood there all shaken and hesitating, Amanthes with eyes aflame cried out:
"See, Isis the Beloved, Isis herself has answered my prayer."
And Amanthes moved as if to enter the sacred place, but the High Priest held him back, warning:
"If you enter without reverence and bound eyes you will die on the threshold."
Amanthes laughed aloud, and strode past him into the Shrine, and as the High Priest held up his hands in fear and horror, the bronze door drew to of itself and closed between them.
From this time on Amanthes was constantly in the Shrine of the Goddess. Indeed, he scarcely gave 16
The Veils of Isis
himself time to eat or sleep, and everyone remarked how thin he grew and haggard with the constant service. And when, after some months, the High Priest warned him that his health would break down, and told him that he must not forget that the chief thing was the interpretation of the Oracles, Amanthes answered impatiently:
"I know nothing yet: the Goddess vouchsafes no answer to my entreaties! How can one interpret without knowledge?"
Now there was a tradition that in the first dynasty a young priest had been consumed in the service of Isis, and had wasted away before the Goddess, till one day he was translated into flame and disap- peared in a moment, and it crossed the High Priest's mind that Amanthes was on the same road, and likely to meet the same fate, and he desisted from admonishing him, fearing to make bad worse. He left the young man to his own devices, till strange tales came to him from the other priests that set all the Temple whispering.
It was put about that at night Amanthes used to speak to the Goddess as if she were a woman, and touch her statue as if the limbs were flesh. He had been overheard entreating her as a lover entreats his mistress, telling over her beauties adoringly, and
17
The Veils of Isis
begging her to lift the veil that prevented him en- joying her divine loveliness. While all the priests were muttering, and wondering how the impious boldness would be punished, one came to them with ashen face and a stranger tale.
"The Goddess has answered Amanthes," he gasped; "Isis asked him why he wanted the veil lifted, and he stretched forth his arms and cried: 'For Love's sake,' and as he spoke the Goddess trembled, and I fled, for indeed the sacred veil had begun to fall away "
The priests wouldn't credit the tidings. But when Amanthes came forth from the Shrine some be- lieved, for he was as one transfigured. He spoke to no man, but went straight to his cell, and from this time on he was continually heard praising the God- dess in song and glorifying her Service.
A little later Amanthes went to the High Priest and asked him to be allowed to write an interpreta- tion of the Oracles, and his interpretation was so bold at once and simple that the High Priest was amazed by it and frightened, and asked him how he dared to treat the divine words so boldly, and the young man answered quietly now and in all humility:
"Love is my only guide, and the boldness of love is reverence." .18
The Veils of Isis
The High Priest bowed his head, for in spite of himself he was moved by the young man's tone and unaccustomed humbleness. And when the servitors came to the High Priest and demanded that Aman- thes should be punished for insolent boldness he shook his head and rebuked them impatiently. And when they persisted, declaring that the worship of Amanthes for the Goddess was an outrage and in- sult to her, he answered simply:
"The Goddess can protect herself."
It was evident to all that he did not believe the slanders. And indeed such portions of the interpre- tations of Amanthes as the High Priest thought fit to publish were so astonishingly simple and con- vincing that they won many to admiration, and his fame was noised abroad throughout all the land of Egypt, and people came from afar to hear his words and to listen to his interpretation of the divine speech.
And his humility now was as evident as his bold- ness had been aforetime.
"I know nothing," he said: "I am but a reed through which the Goddess speaks : of myself noth- ing."
His modesty impressed the people more than any assurance would have done, and when he served Isis
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The Veils of Isis
in public the great Temple was thronged and all the people stirred by the fervor of the ritual, and when at the end he knelt before the Goddess, to re- cite the formal benediction, he prayed with such passion that everyone was affected, and the worship of the Goddess, the Giver of Life, spread on all sides and grew mightily.
The success of Amanthes made many of the priests envious, and sharpened the jealousy of those who had been against him from the beginning. And of these one of the chief was that servitor who had already spied upon him, and reported his entreaties of the Goddess to the High Priest. This man had been one of the most learned of the commentators before Amanthes had appeared. He did not know all the words of the Goddess like Amanthes, but he knew by heart all the comments that had been made on them and all the interpretations for a thousand years, which were indeed in themselves a library of dead men's words. He had been supplanted by the coming of Amanthes, and now lived for nothing but his undoing. One day he came to the High Priest with a mysterious air and a slander which he would not tell, and when the High Priest pressed him to say what it was, he withstood him.
"I will not repeat what I have heard," he said, 20
The Veils of Isis
"nor soil my lips with the blasphemy. Come and hear for yourself."
And when the High Priest refused to come, for he was very old and fearful of shocks, the slanderer insisted:
"You will see Amanthes," he said, "at his foul work; and you will see Her too, and you shall judge whether such things are to be permitted."
He spoke with such horror and hinted at such practices that the High Priest at length consented to go to his cell with him and spy upon Amanthes ; for his cell joined the Shrine itself, and was only sepa- rated from it by one wall. And he showed the High Priest that, when his cell was darkened, they could see between two layers of the stone everything that went on in the Shrine of the Goddess and hear every word as distinctly as if they had been within the sacred place.
And while the High Priest and servitor were lis- tening, Amanthes entered the Shrine and stood be- fore the Goddess. And they saw that he had come as from the bath, for his neck shone and his linen had been bleached by the Nile water. For some time he stood in dumb entreaty with hands out- stretched, and the High Priest thought that the Goddess trembled before the dumb intensity of the
21
The Veils of Isis
appeal, and he turned his head aside for he would not trust his eyes.
At length Amanthes spoke, and the High Priest scarcely recognized his voice:
"How long?" he cried. "How long?"
And his arms fell as if in despair, and he sighed heavily as one in pain. And suddenly he went over to the Goddess, and put his hands upon her hips, and the Chief Priest turned aside breathless, for he would not look, though the servitor with sharp-set eyes nudged him. But he heard Amanthes speak- ing, and as he spoke he turned again to the Shrine, and this was what he heard:
"How long am I to wait, O Queen; how long? Before I knew you I worshiped you, and every fa- vor you have accorded me has fed my passion. When you removed the first veil you showed me a new Isis, even lovelier than my imagining, and I stood entranced; and every veil you have taken off since has revealed some new perfection hitherto un- dreamed. Am I then unworthy to have the last veil lifted? Unworthy, though consumed with adoration."
And as his hands touched the Goddess, the High Priest saw that she trembled as if she had been flesh 22
The Veils of Isis
and blood, and his breath caught, for the Goddess spoke.
"If I refuse," said Isis, "it is for your sake, Amanthes," and her hand touched his hair.
And Amanthes cried aloud:
"To refuse one thing is to refuse all : love knows no denials : I would see you as you are, as the Gods see you face to face."
And the High Priest shuddered in fear, for the grave voice of the Goddess was heard again:
"No woman's soul can resist love: to-morrow it shall be as you desire."
And they saw Amanthes twine his arms round the Goddess and kiss her limbs, and with the last look the High Priest saw that he was prone before the Shrine with his lips pressed against the feet of Isis.
And the High Priest as he went would not even speak with the servitor, for he was full of appre- hension, and torn in many ways, partly by affection for Amanthes, partly by curiosity, and most of all for fear of what would happen on the morrow.
In the morning he gave orders that the servitor should be in close attendance upon himself, and that his cell, from which one could look into the Shrine, should be closed, and he ordained twenty-four hours
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The Veils of Isis
of solemn fasting and prayer for all the priests, and decreed that the Temple should be shut.
In the second hour, after the orders had been given, Amanthes came to him, and the High Priest hardly dared to look on him, for his face was as the face of one who had talked to the Divine and won his soul's desire.
But Amanthes stretched out his strong hands and caught the old man by the shoulders, and said in his rich voice: "I thank you. You have done what I would have ordered in your place."
And the High Priest gasped:
"Are you not afraid?"
"Afraid?" he cried. "To-night is the night for which I was born," and as he turned and went the High Priest saw his shining eyes and felt a little
envious.
The morning after the great fast the High Priest went himself to the Shrine with all his attendants robed and in order as to solemn service. And after the three prayers the bronze doors were opened; and there, stretched before the Goddess, lying prone, was Amanthes. And the moment the High Priest saw him he knew that the youth was dead, and when he looked up at the Goddess he saw she was veiled as usual, and her hands were by her side.
24
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
THE scene is in Moscow, just where the wide Boulevard meets the TVerskaia. In the mid- dle of the way is the statue to Puschkin; on the right hand, walling the street, the great monastery to the Passion of Christ. This is the favorite promenade of the gay-plumaged night-birds of Moscow. They walk up and down the street in the glare of the shops, and then cross and go down the Boulevard, shadows drifting from darkness into the light, and again from the light into darkness.
One night in the early winter of 19 12 a young girl was among them, warmly but dowdily dressed, like a well-to-do provincial; yet she scanned the passers-by as the professionals scan them, and walked slowly as they walk, though it was no time for loitering. The winter had set in early, and already in November the air was keen with frost, and the stars glittered like diamonds.
A young man came hurrying by: as he passed he caught sight of the girl's profile and eyes as she lin-
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The Veils of Isis
gered before a shop window. He stopped at once and went over to her.
"Are you waiting for anyone?" he asked.
The girl replied quite quietly:
"No one in particular."
"Willi do?" he asked gaily.
She threw a quick glance at him and nodded.
His manner changed with her acceptance. For a moment he put out his hand as if to take her by the arm, and then drew back.
"I'm so sorry, but I have to dine to-night with some relatives; I'm late already," he hurried on, "but I must know you; I never saw anyone so pretty. I can't stay to-night; I must go now; I can't get out of it. You'll meet me to-morrow night, won't you?"
The girl shook her head.
"But why not?" he exclaimed. "It's absurd. I want you; you have taken my fancy, and I want to know all about you. Do promise me you will go home now and be here to-morrow at the same time."
The girl shook her head again: "I can't prom- ise."
"But why not?" he insisted. "It's absurd. Sup- pose I pay you for the evening?"
He threw open his fur coat and took some notes out of his waistcoat pocket. 28
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
"No, no !" cried the girl, shrinking away; "I don't want money."
"Don't want money?" he said. "Don't be silly. What else are you here for? Now look," he went on imperiously, "here are ten roubles. Now go home, and I'll meet you here to-morrow night at half-past seven exactly. Will you promise?"
She shook her head; but he seized her hand and shut the note in the palm.
"I must go," he cried hurriedly; "but I'm sure you'll be here to-morrow; you're too young to cheat." And he hurried away.
The girl didn't turn to look after him, but stood for a moment undecided, then took out a little purse and pushed in the banknote and resumed her casual walk, now glancing at the passers-by, now with ap- parent coquetry stopping in the full glare of some shop window, loitering.
A little while later another man accosted her.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
She looked up as the strong voice reached her.
"Nothing."
"And your name?" he went on, drawing her nearer still to the glaring light in the window.
"Rebecca," she said, looking up at him.
"A Jewess!" he cried. "I might have known it
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The Veils of Isis
with that coloring and those great eyes. But you don't look Jewish, you know, with that little straight nose; and you are new at this game, aren't you?"
The girl's eyes met his for a moment.
"Yes," she replied.
"Will you come and dine?" he asked.
The girl nodded.
"Are you free for the night?"
She paused as if swallowing something before she nodded.
"Come on, then," he said; "we'll go and have some dinner and a talk."
The next moment he had stopped a droschky that was swinging by behind a black Orloff, and had helped the girl to a seat.
"To the Hermitage," he said, and the little car whirled away down the street.
The Hermitage in Moscow is a very convenient establishment. It has over two hundred suites of rooms, from five roubles for the night to fifty; from one room with a bed in it and the ordinary exiguous toilet requirements, to a suite of sitting-room, bed- room, and a bathroom so large that a couple may swim about in it. It has sixteen entrances, too, and as many exits, so there is small chance of meeting anyone you don't want to meet.
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The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
The man, evidently a well-to-do merchant, se- lected a good number, and as they followed the waiter into the corridor a little bell tinkled, and con- tinued to tinkle till they got into the sitting-room and the closed door shut out its ringing.
"What's that bell for?" asked the girl.
"Oh, that is one of the customs of the place," said the man, taking off his gloves and laughing to the waiter; "isn't it, Ivan? The bell rings just to warn people not to leave their rooms till the new comers are installed, otherwise one might meet inconvenient people in the passages. Everything is well arranged in the Hermitage, that one can say for it."
The girl nodded her head, smiling, and stood ex- pectant in the middle of the room. Hurriedly, but as one accustomed to it, the man ordered a good dinner, and as the waiter left the room he turned with astonishment to the Jewess:
"What!" he cried, "you haven't taken off your hat and coat yet?" and he came toward her as if to help her.
At once she hurried over to the nearest glass, put up her hands, and took off her little fur cap and be- gan arranging her hair; then slowly loosening her coat, she folded the heavy garment carefully, and laid it on a chair.
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The Veils of Isis
The man went on talking the while :
"Lucky it was I met you; didn't know what to do with my evening. A man I expected to see failed me and I was at a loose end, when I caught sight of your pretty face. But what age are you, Rebecca? You look very young," he added, as if remarking her extreme youth for the first time.
"Sixteen," she said.
"Really!" he cried. "I should have thought nine- teen; but then you mature more quickly than Rus- sians, don't you?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose so.
They were interrupted by the waiter who brought in dinner, and for the first course or two little was said. As usual, they had the meat first and then the fish, Russian fashion. When they had finished the fish, the man's appetite being half sated, he found time to notice that the girl had hardly touched the food.
"Come, come," he cried, "you must eat."
"I can't," she said; "I don't feel hungry."
"That is no reason: you must eat," he insisted. "We live by eating; and you must drink too," and he poured her out another glass of sweet cham- pagne. "You like champagne, don't you?" he asked.
32
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
"It tastes funny," she said. "At first it went up in my nose and tickled. I never saw it before."
"Really!" he exclaimed, "then you must be new at the game. How long have you been in Mos- cow?"
The girl seemed to hesitate: looked at him and looked down.
"You needn't tell me if you don't want to," he said huffily.
The waiter interrupted them again.
In a few minutes more the meal was finished. The man lit a cigarette. The waiter left the room for the last time, the pair were alone.
"Come, Rebecca," said the man. "Come and give me a kiss."
The girl came round the table and stood beside him. He put his arm round her and drew her down to his knee. She seemed awkward, hesitant.
"Where is the kiss?" he asked, smiling.
The girl turned to him, and kissed his cheek.
"Good God!" he cried, "you don't call that a kiss, do you? What is the matter with you?" and he put his cigarette-holder down on the table, and, winding both arms round her, drew her to him and held his lips to hers.
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The Veils of Isis
She yielded stiffly, reluctantly. After kissing her for some little time the man pushed her away.
"Do you call that kissing? Why, you can't kiss at all. What's the matter with you? Give me a proper kiss."
Again the girl pecked at his cheek.
"Look here," he said, "if I displease you, tell me; but don't go on like this ; it's silly."
He rose, looking at her crossly, his vanity smart- ing.
The girl noticed for the first time when he drew himself up that he was fine looking, above middle height, and powerful: a man in the prime of life, thirty perhaps, with strong face, clean-shaven but for the small fair mustache.
"You dislike me?" he went on, putting his hands on her shoulders, "tell me the truth?"
"No," she shook her head.
"Then why don't you kiss me?"
"I have kissed you."
"But you know that isn't the proper way to kiss," he said.
"Are there many ways of kissing?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Of course," he said. "This is the right way," and, taking her head in his hands, he crushed his lips
34
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
on hers. "Now give me a good kiss, as if you liked
me."
With glowing face, the girl gave him another peck.
"What do you mean?" he said, sitting down. "Come, tell me. I must know. Is it pretense with you, or dislike?"
The girl shook her head.
Suddenly her troubled, hot face gave him a new idea: "You're not a novice, are you? How long have you been in Moscow? Where do you live? Come, tell me." And he drew her to his knee again.
As the girl sat down she put her right elbow on the table behind her to keep herself upright and, as luck would have it, snapped the amber and meer- schaum cigarette-holder. As she started up the man picked up the cigarette-holder, smiling.
"I don't mind," he said, "it doesn't matter. I will put the cigarette further away on a plate."
"I am so sorry," cried the girl.
"It's nothing," said the man. "But tell me when did you come to Moscow?"
The girl stood before him with her hands clasped in front of her, for all the world like a schoolgirl; indeed, she was hardly more. She had evidently made up her mind to speak.
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The Veils of Isis
"This afternoon," she replied.
"What! for the first time?" he asked.
"For the first time," she repeated.
"Where do you live?"
"Here," she said.
"Here?" he repeated; "what do you mean?"
"It's a long story," she said, unclasping her hands and quickly clasping them again.
"Tell me it," he said. "We have time, and I should like to hear it all," and he drew her toward him.
And standing there by his left knee she told him the story.
"I came from Gorod by train. It is a long story."
Encouraged by his "Go on," she began again.
"I wanted to study at the University. Only three Jewesses are allowed to come from Gorod to Mos- cow. The three who won had been studying for years and years; the youngest of them was over thirty. Only three are allowed each year to leave the town, and there are thousands of Jewesses in Gorod. I was fourth, so I would have had to wait another year or perhaps longer. But as my mother was a widow I soon coaxed her, and she gave me the money and let me come to Moscow to study."
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The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
"Why do you want to study?" he asked; "what's the good of books? They only tire pretty eyes."
The girl stared at him in wonder; the question was so unexpected, she had to think to find an an- swer; she began confusedly, eagerly:
"I want to know heaps of things, I'm so igno- rant," she burst out. "I want to be like the great women who have done things in the world. Oh, I can't say what I want to say; but I — you know, to be ignorant to-day is stupid, oh, I "
He nodded, hardly interested, wishing to get the story.
"And so you came to Moscow?"
"This afternoon," she said; "it was already get- ting dark. I went to a hotel, but at the hotel — I had taken a room and everything — before they sent for my box to the station they asked me for my passport, and when I told them I hadn't a passport they changed their manner at once, said they had no room for me, I had better go. . . .
"I went to a cheaper hotel and showed them that I had money; but again, as soon as they found I had no passport, they turned me out into the streets. ... I did not know what to do. I spoke to a lady, and she answered rudely, treated me as if I were a beggar. So at last I spoke to one of those women
3?
The Veils of Isis
who walk up and down the street. She was kind to me; she told me I could not get a lodging any- where in Moscow without a passport; it was not possible. But even when she found out I was a Jewess she was kind, told me I was in a bad way, for I should not be able to get a passport, because the police don't like Jewesses. The only thing for me to do, she said, was to get a Yellow Ticket of the — you know — the Yellow Ticket of the prosti- tute 1"
The man whistled — "Whew!" — a long, low note.
"She said, as it was early, she would go with me to the police bureau, and on the way she told me that it was quite easy to get a Yellow Ticket. I had only to go in boldly and ask for one and pay fifteen roubles, and come away. If I had money and wanted to study, I did not need to — do anything, but with the Yellow Ticket there were hundreds of houses where I could get a lodging; otherwise they'd let me freeze on the street. . . ."
The girl paused and looked at him.
"A prostitute is welcome, but not a Jewess, in Moscow — Christian Moscow," she added as if to herself.
The man laughed and put his arms round her. 38
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
"You are delightful," he said, laughing again. "Well, what happened then?"
"I went into the station," the girl went on, "and asked one of the policemen where I was to get a 'Yellow Ticket.' And he tried to kiss me and then took me into the Inspector's room, and the Inspector came and began questioning me. When I told him I had just come to Moscow he tried to kiss me, and I wouldn't let him, so he said he wouldn't give me a Yellow Ticket unless I let him kiss me; well, I let him; but then he wanted . . .
"At last I ran out of the place without the Ticket, and found that my friend had gone away. After a little while I found another woman, again a woman of the streets, and told her what had happened. She told me the only thing she could think of was for me to get a man and go home with him, and then get him to come with me in the morning to the police bureau, and a Yellow Ticket would be given to me at once.
"The Yellow Ticket," she explained gravely, "is a sort of prize in Moscow!"
"I dare say we can manage the Yellow Ticket," said the man carelessly. "But are you really a novice r
The girl nodded.
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The Veils of Isis
"You would rather not begin the game?"
She nodded quickly, eagerly.
"What an adventure!" he cried, stretching out his arms. "Do you know, it is rather lucky you have fallen into good hands, Rebecca? You interest me. Strangely enough, I don't want to kiss anyone par- ticularly who doesn't want to kiss me. That is strange, isn't it?" he asked, laughing.
"No," she said, "it seems to me quite natural."
"That is because you are a girl," he replied, smiling. "It isn't natural to most men. Come, now, do you want to go in there and sleep alone? What would you like me to do? Let you sleep alone and then help you to get the Yellow Ticket in the morning, or go in there with you and have a good time?" and he nodded to the bedroom.
"Alone," she cried. "Do you mind? But then, where are you to sleep?" she added ruefully.
"Oh, I can sleep there," he said, pointing to the sofa; "I have often slept in worse places. I will read some papers I have got in my overcoat, and you can go in and go to bed." He spoke as if dismissing her, and the girl went hesitatingly toward the bed- room door. At the door she turned and looked at him. He nodded, smiling, and waved his hand to her.
40
The Yellow Ticket: Jiolte Bilet
"That's all right," he said; "have a good sleep."
"I'd like," she said, coming back a little way toward him, "I'd like to kiss you."
"Come along," he said, and she came back to him slowly across the room, and this time she yielded herself to him and left her lips on his. He lifted her away at last, and said:
"Now?" half interrogatively.
The girl cried: quickly:
"Good night; thank you so much; good night," and, running across the room, disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door.
For a moment or two the man looked at the door, smiling; then he got up and went to his overcoat, took out some papers, lit another cigarette, and set- tled down to read in the armchair.
An hour later there was unbroken silence in the room. The man got up, stretched himself, took off his collar and coat, undid his boots, arranged his big fur overcoat as covering, then went to the door of the bedroom and listened: all was still. He put his hand on the handle: he could hear his heart throb.
After a pause he turned away and threw himself down on the sofa. In ten minutes he was asleep.
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The Veils of Isis
Shortly before eight o'clock the man woke, got up and opened the windows, rang the bell and ordered breakfast, went into the bathroom and bathed his face and hands. While the waiter was laying the table, he went out hurriedly. In an hour he re- turned and went over and knocked at the girl's door. A moment later he heard her voice, and went in. She was standing fully dressed before him.
"Slept well?" he asked.
"Thanks to you !" she nodded, and the deep eyes dwelt on him.
"Been up long?" he asked.