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Updated: July 27, 2025
Here I am, a Jewess. I cannot hide it. The first Jewish baby that cries for me wins me over; and there are worse things yes, many worse things than being knocked on the head by a drunken Christian. You didn't know that, did you?" "I do not doubt what you say," he answered. "You do not doubt!" repeated Truda, with quick contempt. "I tell you it is so, and I know. Yes!"
When Sila saw this, he was terrified, and asked Ivashka what it meant; and Ivashka told him that these were the heads of heroes who had been suitors to Queen Truda. Sila shuddered on hearing this, and wished to return home without showing himself to the father of Truda; but Ivashka told him to fear nothing and go with him boldly; so Sila went on.
"And now, this is the time to take the baby away, while I am nerved for sacrifices. Soon I shall have nothing left at all." The young Jew looked over to the child, who was getting new effects out of a spoon and a dish of jam. "The child is in good hands," he said. "We shall know she is safe with you." "Ah!" Truda turned to him with a light in her wonderful eyes.
And by it, still crying, crouched a child, whose hands were closed on the woman's disordered dress. Truda, startled to stillness, stood for a space of moments staring; the unconscious face on the ground seemed to look up to her with a manner of challenge, and the child, surprised by the light, paused in its weeping and cowered closer to the body. "Murder?" said Truda hoarsely.
She gave her life to teach it. There will be no more Judenhetze in this city." "Her life to teach it," repeated Monsieur Vaucher. "She gave her life." His composure failed him suddenly, and he fell on his knees on the other side of what had been Truda Schottelius, weeping openly. "She never failed," he said. "She never failed. A great artist, Monsieur, the Schottelius!
Truda was at breakfast in her room when he arrived and was shown in; opposite to her at the table, the baby was making the most of various foods. It greeted him with shouts and open welcome; no further proof was needed to establish his claim. Truda, delicate and fragile in a morning wrapper, a slender vivid exotic of a woman, shaped as though by design to the service of art, looked up to scan him.
"How can you help?" asked the young man again. "Tell me what you will do?" "Me?" said Truda. "For to-night I can do nothing; I am not an army. But I think that after to-night there will be no more Judenhetze in this city. That is what I think. For, after all, I am the Schottelius; people know me and set a value on me, and if harm comes to me there will be a reckoning."
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