I got her out, and reporting the occurrence to Quillet, begged him to provide against the possibility of such visitations for the future. But the incident was not lost on me. It served to show how bitter was the animosity which could stir up even women to such demonstrations.
And then I departed on my errand, and a most extraordinary scene it was on which I entered. Never was a mob more unanimous than that raging on the Marina. They had thoroughly made up their minds touching the charge against the Jewish community, and seemed astonished at my reappearance. Whether or not my murder entered into the popular programme, I cannot say. But at all events, and most evidently, they were disconcerted at seeing me there in person. This was the first check in their career of mad assumptions. Then came my explanation, which I hope had some weight. I assured them that my absence was in pursuance of plans laid before my coming to Rhodes, before Daniel could have seen or heard of me, so that there could have been no plotting here.
Then I proposed that two selected individuals should accompany me in a perquisition from house to house in the Jews’ quarter. These unfortunates had, of course, resisted a visitation en masse, and were prepared to do so, if necessary, by force. But they would be only too happy to avail themselves of any non-perilous means of rebutting the charges against them.
Well, two respectable Greeks were chosen, and we set to work immediately. Every house, every cupboard, every cellar was open to us—not, by-the-by, that their houses do contain many cellars—but I mean that we were invited to search every possible lurking-place. Of course we found nothing; and with tears in their eyes the poor women assured us (as interpreted to me), that they would give their own blood to find traces of the little one. Alas! they knew that their blood was likely to pay the penalty of a failure.
Our search being over, my associates departed to report progress. I remained behind, and asked to see the children who had been the last with Bessie. There was a long demur, but eventually, and on my repeated assurance that my intentions were the very opposite of hostile, two little girls were produced as being the children in question. Nice-looking things they were, though in a state of abject terror. I set myself (always through an interpreter) to get at the full particulars of the story. They told where they had been, and what they had done, and where they lost sight of Bessie. It was at a point near home, but she had not set about walking in a homeward direction. She had turned towards the beach. They thought nothing of it at the time, but remembering it subsequently, wondered that they had not followed after her. That was all they knew about it.
I determined to follow up the track. Perfectly convinced as I was that she was not secreted anywhere in the town, the only supposition I could hit upon was that she had wandered, poor little thing, somewhere into the country. I started alone. The two children would have come with me, had it been safe for them to venture; but I had to be content with descriptive indications of the line of departure.
I soon arrived at the described point, and verified the course laid down for me. The hubbub in the town continued to rage, as the failure of all the searches was ascribed to the cunning of the accused. No one noticed me; no one seemed to think that I had the slightest chance of success. They were too entirely pre-occupied with their one idea. Besides they had already searched in this very track. They could scarcely have been so stupid as to omit such an obvious probability. But, for all this, I proceeded not the less confidently. Perhaps it was because I felt that, with minds ready made up, they would not be likely to search as I should. There was no heart in their work; there was in mine. So on I went.
Searching every nook, looking behind every crag and rock, I passed on farther than it was likely a child of tender years could have wandered. No hat, no shoe, no ribbon was found. I began to fear that she might have been carried off by some piratical visitant from the seaward.
Much discouraged I turned homeward. Night was coming on, and continued effort seemed likely to be at random. Slightly altering my route I came to the very ground over which our happy cavalcade had passed joyously but a few days since. There was the ilex we had admired—there the fantastic rock. And there, in its grim desolation, was the leper village.
I stopped at the very spot where we had halted before, and recalled the former thoughts. The encircling wall was bare of heads. Poor things, no doubt they went to bed early. Still I thought there was one person standing at the post of observation. Yes, I made him out plainly.
In the fading light it was not easy to make sure of objects, but it really seemed as if the poor fellow was watching me as intently as I was watching him. Yes, there was no mistake about it. He was gesticulating, and that in a manner evidently intended to invite my approach.
I had a moment’s hesitation. Repugnance and fear held me back, but divine charity urged me forward. Should I refuse to listen to the afflicted? That much I might do without pains and penalties,—certainly without actual risk.
So I advanced cautiously within ear-shot. What was it that the pale, muffled-up spectre shouted out? The language was known to my ear; but the idea was of the utterly impossible.
“Monsieur, la voici votre petite!”
A horrible dread came over me. I gasped for breath,—was sick and trembled.
That living grave, and poor Bessie! The association was too dreadful.
I tottered towards the speaker, and, in the excitement of the moment, might have seriously compromised myself, had not his voice arrested me.
“Halte là, monsieur, il ne faut pas depasser les limites.”
I must not go beyond, and yet poor Bessie was there, within the devoted inclosure.
I stopped as ordered, and in a few words begged to be informed as to the state of the case, and