86 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS.
of the virtues he inculcated. He lived generously — through other people's generosity — but no one could boast of hav- ing received a farthing from him over and above what was due to them ; while Schnorrers (who deemed considerable sums due to them) regarded him in the light of a defalcat- ing bankrupt. He, for his part, had a countervailing grudge against the world, fancying the work he did for it but feebly remunerated. " I get so little," ran his bitter plaint, " that I couldn't live, if it were not for the fasts." And, indeed, the fasts of the religion were worth much more to him than to Yankele ; his meals were so profuse that his savings from this source were quite a little revenue. As Yankele had pointed out, he was married. And his wife had given him a child, but it died at the age of seven, bequeathing to him the only poignant sorrow of his life. He was too jealous to call in a rival consolation preacher during those dark days, and none of his own five sermons seemed to fit the case. It was some months before he took his meals regularly.
At no time had anyone else taken meals in his house, except by law entitled. Though she had only two to cook for, his wife habitually provided for three, counting her husband no mere unit. Herself she reckoned as a half.
It was with intelligible perturbation, therefore, that Yankele, dressed in some other man's best, approached the house of Rabbi Remorse Red-herring about a quarter of an hour before the Sabbath mid-day meal, intent on sharing it with him.
" No dinner, no marriage ! " was da Costa's stern ukase.
What wonder if the inaccessible meal took upon itself the grandiosity of a wedding feast ! Deborah da Costa's lovely face tantalised him like a mirage.
The Sabbath day was bleak, but chiller was his heart. The Rabbi had apartments in Steward Street, Spitalfields, an elegant suite on the ground-floor, for he stinted himself in
