“Then why didn’t you stop me?” asked Sam, exasperated.

“It was all done in a moment.  I laughed myself; I had no time to think.”

Sam brought his fist down on the table with a bang.

“Well, I’ll never believe this!  If this is Judaism——!”

“Hush!” said Malka angrily.  “These are your English Jews, who make mock of holy things.  I always said the son of a proselyte was——­”

“Look here, mother,” put in Michael soothingly.  “Don’t let us make a fuss before we know the truth.  Send for some one who is likely to know.”  He played agitatedly with his complex pocket-knife.

“Yes, Hannah’s father, Reb Shemuel is just the man,” cried Milly Phillips.

“I told you my husband was gone to Manchester for a day or two,” Mrs. Jacobs reminded her.

“There’s the Maggid of the Sons of the Covenant,” said one of the company.  “I’ll go and fetch him.”

The stooping, black-bearded Maggid was brought.  When he arrived, it was evident from his look that he knew all and brought confirmation of their worst fears.  He explained the law at great length, and cited precedent upon precedent.  When he ceased, Leah’s sobs alone broke the silence.  Samuel’s face was white.  The merry gathering had been turned to a wedding party.

“You rogue!” burst forth Malka at last.  “You planned all this—­you thought my Leah didn’t have enough money, and that Reb Shemuel will heap you up gold in the hands.  But you don’t take me in like this.”

“May this piece of bread choke me if I had the slightest iota of intention!” cried Samuel passionately, for the thought of what Leah might think was like fire in his veins.  He turned appealingly to the Maggid; “but there must be some way out of this, surely there must be some way out.  I know you Maggidim can split hairs.  Can’t you make one of your clever distinctions even when there’s more than a trifle concerned?” There was a savage impatience about the bridegroom which boded ill for the Law.

“Of course there’s a way out,” said the Maggid calmly.  “Only one way, but a very broad and simple one.”

“What’s that?” everybody asked breathlessly.

“He must give her Gett!”

“Of course!” shouted Sam in a voice of thunder.  “I divorce her at once.”  He guffawed hysterically:  “What a pack of fools we are!  Good old Jewish law!”

Leah’s sobs ceased.  Everybody except Mrs. Jacobs was smiling once more.  Half a dozen, hands grasped the Maggid’s; half a dozen others thumped him on the back.  He was pushed into a chair.  They gave him a glass of brandy, they heaped a plate with fried fish.  Verily the Maggid, who was in truth sore ahungered, was in luck’s way.  He blessed Providence and the Jewish Marriage Law.

“But you had better not reckon that a divorce,” he warned them between two mouthfuls.  “You had better go to Reb Shemuel, the maiden’s father, and let him arrange the Gett beyond reach of cavil.”