its mates saw the food and with a rush snapped a morsel and was away again. All this she dimly perceived whilst her thoughts cried to the open gates of Heaven. Another and another followed the first adventurous bird.
A sudden scream and rush of the birds warned her of an intruder. A comely girl made her appearance and beckoned her to follow. Silently, meekly, but with all her ideas concentrated, she followed, traversing many corridors, until she found herself in a garden surrounded by high walls. Trembling she surveyed the trees and high walls that shut out all but the sky. From out of a side came a tall, well-built and not unhandsome man, dressed in the plain, black garb of a priest.
"Daughter," he exclaimed, in a low and melancholy voice as he approached with gentle steps, "fear not; thou hast left that mockery of a human dwelling, thy father's house, for ever. Nay, cry not. Mine is a mission of peace. I have been sent to speak to thee, to counsel thee."
"Oh, let me return to my father," beseechingly, clasping her hands.
"Thy father—yes—God the Father, my child."
"My God—my father," bewildered.
He gently raised a cross.
"My father and God. I would gladly, oh, so gladly return."
"Forget, my daughter, forget thy earthly father."
She opened her eyes widely in wonderment and stepped back in surprise as she asked "What mean you, sir?"
“It is no riddle, daughter. I would convey to thee that thou should’st forget all thy past and seek the shelter of that kindest and best of mothers: the Church.”
Slowly but distinctly came the answer, "I am a Jewess."
"Nay, nay," rejoined the priest with a half smile on his face "thou art a woman. See, thy bosom heaves; nay, be not confused. True thou tell'st me thou art a daughter of a stiff-necked race. If thou had not pressed this fact upon me I would not have pressed thee so hastily. Listen, child of an obdurate people, thy fate inclineth to two paths. Becomest thou a Christian, then wilt thou be honourably married, for one, no doubt he who caused thee to be brought here, hath a liking for thy comeliness. Refuseth thou, then, and I have no power to prevent it. I sought thee but from love of humankind. On thy refusal thy prisonment may continue, and who would be thy husband may become what he may and will."
Rachel had drawn her hand over her eyes as if to keep out the vision, but, nerving herself, she approached her interlocutor closely: "I plead not with thee for thy faith I am told loatheth women. Loved thou mankind thou would'st protect the friendless, not counsel me to change my faith on a sudden."
"Thou art mistaken; mine is the faith of love; I will give thee time: a day, two days, three days," said the priest.
"My faith is eternal," replied Rachel.
"Nay, hearken, girl; if thou can'st argue, then debate with me. What I hold out to thee is the divine love, the surety of the after life, nought of the paltriness of this earth. Clutch the cross and thou shalt sail on the wings of the Redeemer. Is not that far above the worldliness of your Jewish trafficers?"