When the Hamburg populace perceived him, a group of children began to abuse him, but no one took up the cry, and not a hand was lifted against the silent, venerable-looking old man.
'Let him go in peace!' said one to the other; 'it is old Philip Moses. He is a good man; it would be a sin to hurt _him_, or to scoff at him.'
'But if we had his son Samuel in our clutches,' said others, 'he should not get off so easily; he is the greatest bloodsucker among them all!'
It was late at night--the tumult in the streets had ceased. No more carriages rolled along from the theatre, or from parties at the houses of the rich Hamburg merchants. The promenade on the 'Jungfernstieg' had been over long before, and the pavilions were locked up. Lights glimmered faintly from the upper windows of the large hotels, and only here and there a solitary reveller was to be seen, humming an air, as he was wending his way homewards from the 'Salon d'Apollon,' or was stopped by some straggling night-wanderer of the female sex. The moon was shining calmly on the Alster, and the watchman had just called the hour by St. Michael's clock; but two strange-looking figures still walked up and down the 'Jungfernstieg,' and seemed to have no thought of home, though the sharp wind scattered the leaves of the trees around them, and the flitting clouds often obscured the moon on that cold September night. A dark-haired young girl walked, shivering with cold, alongside of an old Jew, and seemed to be speaking words of comfort to him, in a low, sweet voice; and that Jew was the aged Philip Moses!
'You are freezing, my child,' said the old man, as he threw the skirt of his torn talar around her shoulders. 'Let me take you back to the house of your mother's brother; but _I_ will not cross his threshold again. I made that vow the day he was seduced into wedding the artful Christian girl. On this day has my third son closed his door against me, and I have no more daughters on this earth. But yes, I have _you_ still--you, the daughter of my dear and excellent Rachel! Come, let me take you home. It is hard enough upon you to be an orphan--fatherless and motherless--and a servant to your Christian aunt; you shall not become houseless for my sake. Poor Benjamina!' he exclaimed, as a bright beam from the moon, that was unclouded for a minute, enabled him to see her lovely youthful face distinctly, and to observe how tears were gathering in her long dark eyelashes. 'Poor Benjamina! you are indeed kind to care so much for your rough old grandfather, and not to be afraid to come and wander about with him, in our day of persecution, when he was thrust out alone among our foes!'