d by the fumes of the
wretched liquor they had imbibed, dropped off, one by one, into a
drunken sleep.

"Let us take what we can, Leah," said the wretched man, after assuring
himself that the soldiers were all fast asleep, "and let us flee."

"We dare carry nothing--we dare not even travel, for this is the
Sabbath," answered Leah, sadly.

Poor Jews! In the midst of sorrow, as in the midst of joy, the behests
of their holy religion are never forgotten.

"Yes, we may travel," replied Mordecai. "It is a matter of more
importance than life and death, and the Talmud authorizes the
desecration of the Sabbath in time of great danger."

"Then let us go at once," whispered Leah.

Hand in hand they left the miserable hut, the place they had for so many
years called home, and wandered out into the world, without a prospect
to cheer them on their desolate way.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 10: Wallace.]

CHAPTER XIV.

A HAPPY PASSOVER.

It is the eve of the Passover feast, the birthday of Israel's
nationality. All is bustle and excitement in the Jewish quarter of Kief.
Kitchen utensils and furniture have been removed from the houses and are
piled up in the streets. Dust rises in clouds, water flows in torrents
through the muddy gutters. Children, banished from the vacant rooms, are
romping and playing, shouting and crying in the lanes. Feather beds and
blankets, clothing and linen are being aired. Within the houses
scourers and scrubbers are cleaning, dusting and white-washing. The
great national house-cleaning is in progress. From closet and cupboard,
dishes and cooking utensils are brought out for their eight days'
service.

To-morrow is _Pesach_ (Passover). An entire nation await with passionate
longing the arrival of this festival and accord it a hospitable welcome.
The man of wealth lavishly displays on this day his gold and silver, his
finely wrought utensils and crystal dishes. The poor man has labored day
and night to save enough to give the guest a worthy reception. The
stranger and the homeless are made welcome at every table, that they,
too, may enjoy, free from care and sorrow, the advent of the _Pesach_.

What yearning, what hopes, what anticipations usher in this feast of
feasts! Winter, with its manifold hardships, is past. Nature awakes from
her frigid lethargy, and the balmy air gives promise of renewed life and
happiness.

The preparations are at length complete. Every nook and corner is
scrup