they knew not that one
was for the world which was gone, and the other for the world before
him--for the drowned world, and for the present, as Master Leo Abarbenel
says in his 'Dialogues of Divine Love.' He--he--he!" continued the
Rabbi, who had by this time advanced to the door, and, turning round,
waved the two forefingers of his right hand in our faces; "the Goyims and
Epicouraiyim are clever men, they know how to make money better than we
of Israel. My good friend there is a clever man, I bring him money, he
never brought me any; _bueno_, I do not blame him, he knows much, very
much; but one thing there is my friend does not know, nor any of the
Epicureans, he does not know the sacred thing--he has never received the
gift of interpretation which God alone gives to the seed--he has his
gift, I have mine--he is satisfied, I don't blame him, _bueno_."

And with this last word in his mouth, he departed.

"Is that man a native of Spain?" I demanded.

"Not a native of Spain," said the Armenian, "though he is one of those
who call themselves Spanish Jews, and who are to be found scattered
throughout Europe, speaking the Spanish language transmitted to them by
their ancestors, who were expelled from Spain in the time of Ferdinand
and Isabella."

"The Jews are a singular people," said I.

"A race of cowards and dastards," said the Armenian, "without a home or
country; servants to servants; persecuted and despised by all."

"And what are the Haiks?" I demanded.

"Very different from the Jews," replied the Armenian; "the Haiks have a
home--a country, and can occasionally use a good sword; though it is true
they are not what they might be."

"Then it is a shame that they do not become so," said I; "but they are
too fond of money. There is yourself, with two hundred thousand pounds
in your pocket, craving for more, whilst you might be turning your wealth
to the service of your country."

"In what manner?" said the Armenian.

"I have heard you say that the grand oppressor of your country is the
Persian; why not attempt to free your country from his oppression--you
have two hundred thousand pounds, and money is the sinew of war?"

"Would you, then, have me attack the Persian?"

"I scarcely know what to say; fighting is a rough trade, and I am by no
means certain that you are calculated for the scratch. It is not every
one who has been brought up in the school of Mr. Petulengro and Tawno
Chikno. All I can say is