he
Feast of Tabernacles, one of the most important observances of the year.
It was in memory of the long wandering of the Israelites through the
desert. In commemoration of their sufferings the Jews were supposed to
eat in the open air, in a tabernacle that resembled the tents and huts
of their forefathers. The more fanatic of them, those most attached to
ancient customs, ate standing, with a staff in their hands, as if ready
to resume their journey after the last mouthful. The Hebrew merchants of
the central street erected their structures on the roof; those of the
poor quarters built theirs in a yard or corral, wherever they could
catch a glimpse of the open sky. Those who, because of their extreme
poverty, lived in a shanty, were invited to dine in company with the
more fortunate, with that fraternity of a race compelled by hatred and
persecution to preserve a firm solidarity.

The tabernacle Aguirre saw was that of old Aboab and his son, brokers
who kept their establishment on the selfsame Royal Street, just a few
doors below. And the servant pronounced the name Aboab (father and son)
with that mingling of superstitious awe and hatred which is inspired in
the poor by wealth that is considered unjustly held. All Gibraltar knew
them; it was the same in Tangier, and the same in Rabat and Casablanca.
Hadn't the gentleman heard of them? The son directed the business of the
house, but the father still took part, presiding over all with his
venerable presence and that authority of old age which is so infallible
and sacred among Hebrew families.

"If you could only see the old man!" added the attendant, with his
Andalusian accent. "A white beard that reaches down to his waist, and if
you'd put it into hot water it would yield more than a pitcherful of
grease. He's almost as greasy as the grand Rabbi, who's the bishop among
them.... But he has lots of money. Gold ounces by the fistful, pounds
sterling by the shovel; and if you'd see the hole he has in the street
for his business you'd be amazed. A mere poor man's kitchen. It seems
impossible that he can store so much there!"

After breakfast, when Aguirre went back to his room in search of his
pipe, he saw that the Aboab tabernacle was occupied by the whole family.
At the back, which was in semi-obscurity, he seemed to make out a white
head presiding over the table and on each side elbows leaning upon the
tablecloth, and the skirts and trousers of persons who were for the