ISIDORE ROSENTHAL
"You know them, of course?" asked Dessalines.
"Oh, yes! Madam is beautiful, is she not?"
Rosenthal laughed to wipe away the impression of his first, sharp interrogation. As he laughed, his heavy, black mustache seemed to part in the middle and roll up and away from his strong, yellow teeth. He was a Bohemian Jew, a Czechian; a Jew of a fairly frequent but little-known type; a Jew to upset the popular Gentile opinions of his race. All traveled men have met him.
The world is familiar with the usual traits ascribed in excess to the Israelite, but not with this other Jew of whom there are many—thousands. He is the bold Jewish adventurer: an individual of iron physique; fierce courage when his safety or that of his goods is menaced; accomplished, a man of the world, generous with friends, lacking in pride but not humble; keen as a Chinaman with trade rivals; sensuous, alive to humor; capable of odd freaks of utterly disinterested kindness. A bold gambler, he is perhaps the only relic of the early adventurous Jewish traders who established the commerce, the credit of the world of finance; who ventured from the Levant, risking their lives and fortunes in frail vessels; rapacious, conscienceless with a trade victim; liberal with mistresses who were many; a rather admirable man, yet repellent to the Gentile by virtue of aggression. One who, in a company of plebeians, demands the ear of the one aristocrat; in a company of aristocrats, demands the ear of the one nobleman; in a company of nobles, demands the royal attention; who would buttonhole a divinity were this thing possible; or Satan himself in preference to any of his satellites.
Isidore Rosenthal was perhaps forty years of age;
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