The Wandering Jew — Complete eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 1,953 pages of information about The Wandering Jew — Complete.

“Mother Bunch, will you read this letter for me?” said Frances, anxious to learn the contents of the missive in question.

“Yes, mother,”—­and the young girl read as follows: 

“’My dear madame Baudoin,—­I am in the habit of hearing you Tuesday and Saturday, but I shall not be at liberty either to-morrow or the last day of the week; you must then come to me this morning, unless you wish to remain a whole week without approaching the tribunal of penance.’”

“Good heavens! a week!” cried Dagobert’s wife.  “Alas!  I am only too conscious of the necessity of going there today, notwithstanding the trouble and grief in which I am plunged.”

Then, addressing herself to the orphans, she continued:  “Heaven has heard the prayers that I made for you, my dear young ladies; this very day I shall be able to consult a good and holy man with regard to the great dangers to which you are exposed.  Poor dear souls, that are so innocent, and yet so guilty, without any fault of your own!  Heaven is my witness, that my heart bleeds for you as much as for my son.”

Rose and Blanche looked at each other in confusion; they could not understand the fears with which the state of their souls inspired the wife of Dagobert.  The latter soon resumed, addressing the young sempstress: 

“My good girl, will you render me yet another service?”


“My husband took Agricola’s week’s wages with him to pay his journey to Chartres.  It was all the money I had in the house; I am sure that my poor child had none about him, and in prison he will perhaps want some.  Therefore take my silver cup, fork, and spoon, the two pair of sheets that remain over, and my wadded silk shawl, that Agricola gave me on my birthday, and carry them all to the pawnbroker’s.  I will try and find out in which prison my son is confined, and will send him half of the little sum we get upon the things; the rest will serve us till my husband comes home.  And then, what shall we do?  What a blow for him—­and only more misery in prospect—­since my son is in prison, and I have lost my sight.  Almighty Father!” cried the unfortunate mother, with an expression of impatient and bitter grief, “why am I thus afflicted?  Have I not done enough to deserve some pity, if not for myself, at least for those belonging to me?” But immediately reproaching herself for this outburst, she added, “No, no!  I ought to accept with thankfulness all that Thou sandiest me.  Forgive me for these complaints, or punish only myself!”

“Be of good courage, mother!” said Mother Bunch.  “Agricola is innocent, and will not remain long in prison.”

“But now I think of it,” resumed Dagobert’s wife, “to go to the pawnbroker’s will make you lose much time, my poor girl.”

“I can make up that in the night, Madame Frances; I could not sleep, knowing you in such trouble.  Work will amuse me.”

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The Wandering Jew — Complete from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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