on.

And old Hobden says that if it hadn't been for _her_ (he calls
everything "her", you know), the keepers would have him clapped in Lewes
Gaol all the year round.'

Again Puck translated to Kadmiel in the strange, solemn-sounding
language, and at last Kadmiel laughed.

'Out of the mouths of babes do we learn,' said he. 'But tell me now, and
I will not call you a babe but a Rabbi, _why_ did the King sign the roll
of the New Law at Runnymede? For he was a King.'

Dan looked sideways at his sister. It was her turn.

'Because he jolly well had to,' said Una softly. 'The Barons made him.'

'Nay,' Kadmiel answered, shaking his head. 'You Christians always forget
that gold does more than the sword. Our good King signed because he
could not borrow more money from us bad Jews.' He curved his shoulders
as he spoke. 'A King without gold is a snake with a broken back,
and'--his nose sneered up and his eyebrows frowned down--'it is a good
deed to break a snake's back. That was my work,' he cried, triumphantly,
to Puck. 'Spirit of Earth, bear witness that that was _my_ work!' He
shot up to his full towering height, and his words rang like a trumpet.
He had a voice that changed its tone almost as an opal changes
colour--sometimes deep and thundery, sometimes thin and waily, but
always it made you listen.

'Many people can bear witness to that,' Puck answered. 'Tell these babes
how it was done. Remember, Master, they do not know Doubt or Fear.'

'So I saw in their faces when we met,' said Kadmiel. 'Yet surely, surely
they are taught to spit upon Jews?'

'Are they?' said Dan, much interested. 'Where at?'

Puck fell back a pace, laughing. 'Kadmiel is thinking of King John's
reign,' he explained. 'His people were badly treated then.'

'Oh, we know _that_.' they answered, and (it was very rude of them, but
they could not help it) they stared straight at Kadmiel's mouth to see
if his teeth were all there. It stuck in their lesson-memory that King
John used to pull out Jews' teeth to make them lend him money.

Kadmiel understood the look and smiled bitterly.

'No. Your King never drew my teeth: I think, perhaps, I drew his.
Listen! I was not born among Christians, but among Moors--in Spain--in a
little white town under the mountains. Yes, the Moors are cruel, but at
least their learned men dare to think. It was prophesied of me at my
birth that I should be a Lawgiver to a People of a strange speech and a
hard language. We J