And now at this mention of the boat, and at the flash of hope that came with it, Rachel remembered that she herself had a plentiful head of hair, and how often it had been commended for its colour and texture, and length and abundance, in the days (now gone for ever) when all things were good and beautiful that belonged to the daughter of the Governor. So making some excuse to Stephen, she rose up, put off her hufa, her little house-cap with the tassel, put on her large linen head-dress, hurried out, and made for the wharf.
There in truth the Jew was standing with a group of girls about him. And some of these would sell outright to him, and then go straightway to the stores to buy filigree jewellery and rings, or bright-hued shawls, with the price of their golden locks. And some would hover about him, between desire of so much artificial adornment and dread of so much natural disfigurement, until like moths they would fall before the light of the Jew's bright silver.
Rachel had reached the place at the first impulse of her thought, but being there her heart misgave her, and she paused on the outskirts of the crowd. To go in among these girls and sell her hair to the Jew, was to make herself one with the lowest and meanest of the town, but that was not the fear that held her back. Suddenly the thought had come to her that what she had intended to do was meant to win her husband back to her, yet that she could not say what it was that had won him for her at the first. And seeing how sadly the girls were changed after the shears had passed over their heads, she could not help but ask herself what it would profit her, though she got the boat for her husband, if she lost him for herself? And thinking in this fashion, she was turning away with a faltering step, when the Jew, seeing her, called to her, saying what lovely hair she had, and asking would she part with it. There was no going back on her purpose then, so, facing it out as bravely as she could, she removed her headdress, dropped her hair out of the plaits, until it fell in sunny wavelets to her waist, and asked how much he would give for it. The Jew answered, "Fifty crowns."
"Make it sixty," she said, "and it is yours."
The Jew protested that he would lose by the transaction, but he paid the money into Rachel's hands, and she, lest she should repent of her bargain, prayed him to take her hair off instantly. He was nothing loth to do so, and the beautiful flaxen locks, cut close to the crown, fell in long tresses to
