Every eye was on her, and in the wide circle around every mouth was agape.  And when those who looked on and listened had recovered from their first surprise, very strange and various were the whispered words they passed between them.  “Where has she learnt it?” asked a Moor.  “From her master himself,” muttered a Jew.  “Who is it?” asked the Moor.  “Beelzebub,” growled the Jew.  “God pity me, the evil eye is on her,” said an Arab.  “God will show,” said a Shereef from Wazzan.  “They say her mother was a childless woman, and offered petitions for Hannah’s blessing at the tomb of Rabbi Amran.”  “No,” said the Arab; “she sent her girdle.”  “Anyhow, the child is a saint,” whispered the Shereef.  “No, but a devil,” snorted the Jew.

“Brava, brava, brava!” cried the new wife of Ben Aboo, and she cheered and laughed as the girl played.  “What did I tell you?” she said, looking toward her husband.  “The child is not deaf, no, nor blind either.  Oh, it’s a brave imposture!  Brava, brave!”

Still the little maiden played, but now her brow was clouded, her head dropped, her eyelashes were downcast, and she hung over the harp and sighed audibly.

“Good again!” cried the woman.  “Very good!” and she clapped her hands, whereupon the Arabs and the Moors, forgetting their dread, felt constrained to follow her example, and they cheered in their wilder way, but the Jews continued to mutter, “Beelzebub, Beelzebub!”

Israel saw it all, and at first, amid the commotion of his mind and the confusion of his senses, his heart melted at sight of what Naomi did.  Had God opened a gateway to her soul?  Were the poor wings of her spirit to spread themselves out at last?  Was this, then, the way of speech that Heaven had given her?  But hardly had Israel overflowed with the tenderness of such thoughts when the bleating and barking of the faces about him awakened his anger.  Then, like blows on his brain, came the cries of the wife of the Governor, who cheered this awakening of the girl’s soul as it were no better than a vulgar show; and at that Israel’s wrath rose to his throat.

“Brava, brava!” cried the woman again; and, turning to Israel, she said, “You shall leave the child with me.  I must have her with me always.”

Israel’s throat seemed to choke him at that word.  He looked at Katrina, and saw that she was a woman lustful of breath and vain of heart, who had married Ben Aboo because he was rich.  Then he looked at Naomi, and remembered that her heart was clear as the water, and sweet as the morning, and pure as the snow.

And at that moment the wife of the Governor cheered again, and again the people echoed her, and even the women on the housetops made bold to take up her cry with their cooing ululation.  The playing had ceased, the spell had dissolved, Naomi’s fingers had fallen from the harp, her head had dropped into her breast, and with a sigh she had sunk forward on to her face.