the rabbi there before him, had charged him in his last will to devote his life to that office and never to leave the place unless for fear of life.  This command, except for a cabinet full of rare books, was all that his parent, who had lived in poverty and learning, left him.  Rabbi Abraham, however, was a very rich man, for he had married the only daughter of his father’s brother, who had been a prosperous dealer in jewelry, and whose possessions he had inherited.  A few gossips in the community hinted now and then that the Rabbi had married for money.  But the women all denied this, declaring that the Rabbi, long ere he went to Spain, had been in love with “Beautiful Sara,” and recalling how she had awaited his return for seven years, while, as a matter of fact, he had already wedded her against the will of her father, and even without her own consent, by the betrothal-ring.  For every Jew can make a Jewish girl his lawful wife, if he can succeed in putting a ring on her finger, and say at the same time:  “I take thee for my wife, according to the law of Moses and Israel.”  And when Spain was mentioned, the same gossips were wont to smile in the same significant manner, all because of a vague rumor that Rabbi Abraham, though he had studied the holy law industriously enough at the theological school in Toledo, had nevertheless followed Christian customs and become imbued with habits of free thinking, like many of the Spanish Jews who at that time had attained a very remarkable degree of culture.

And yet in the bottom of their hearts these gossips put no faith in such reports; for ever since his return from Spain the daily life of the Rabbi had been pure, pious, and earnest in every way.  He performed every detail of all religious customs and ceremonies with painstaking conscientiousness; he fasted every Monday and Thursday—­only on Sabbaths and feast days did he indulge in meat or wine; his time was passed in prayer and study; by day he taught the Law to students, whom his fame had drawn to Bacharach; and by night he gazed on the stars in heaven, or into the eyes of Beautiful Sara.  His married life was childless, yet there was no lack of life or gaiety in his home.  The great hall in his house, which stood near the synagogue, was open to the whole community, so that people went in and out without ceremony, some to offer short prayers, others to gather news, or to hold a consultation when in trouble.  Here the children played on Sabbath mornings while the weekly “section” was being read; here people met for wedding and funeral processions, and quarreled or were reconciled; here, too, those who were cold found a warm stove, and those who were hungry, a well-spread table.  And, moreover, the Rabbi, as well as his wife, had a multitude of relatives, brothers and sisters, with their wives and children, and an endless array of uncles and cousins, all of whom looked up to the Rabbi as the head of the family, and so made themselves at home in his house, never failing to dine with him on all great festivals.