# Works of Jules Verne/The Pearl of Lima/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III
THE JEW'S ANGER
Once safely lodged in the house of Samuel, and placed upon a couch that was quickly prepared for him, André Certa recovered his consciousness, and grasped the hand of the Jew. The surgeon who had been summoned was soon in attendance, and pronounced the wound to be unimportant, the shoulder having received the blow in such a way that the poignard had merely made a flesh wound; and there was no doubt that in a few days Andre would be convalescent.
When André found himself alone with Samuel he said to him, " I think you ought to block up the doorway that leads up to the terrace on the roof."
"Why?" rejoined the Jew. "What is there to be afraid of?"
"I don't think," continued André, "that it is right for Sarah to expose herself to the gaze of those Indians. It was from no burglar, it was simply from a rival that I received the cut that might have caused me serious injury: it was only by a miracle that I escaped."
"Ah! by the holy Bible!" shrieked the Jew, "you must be mistaken. My daughter will make you an accomplished wife, and I have always taken care that she shall do nothing that will damage your reputation."
André Certa lifted himself on to his elbow, and said significantly, "Are you not rather forgetting that I am to pay for Sarah's hand the price of no less than a hundred thousand piastres?"
"By no means," said the Jew with a greedy grin, "and I am quite ready to give you a receipt when I get the hard cash." And as he spoke he took from his portfolio a paper, of which André took no notice.
​"There will be no bargain between us, Master Samuel, until Sarah becomes my wife; and that she won't be, if there is to be any difficulty about a rival. You know my object; I want to be a match for those haughty aristocrats, who now treat me with such vile contempt."
"And that is in your reach, André. Once married you will find the haughtiest Spaniards coming to your receptions."
"Where has your daughter been this evening?" asked André.
“To the synagogue with old Ammon, her companion.”
“Why do you make your daughter attend those services?" said André. "What good can they be to her?"
"I am a Jew,” replied the father, “and Sarah would not be my daughter if she did not fulfil the offices of our religion.”
A villainous rascal was Samuel the Jew. Trading in commodities of any kind, however questionable, he worthy to be a direct descendant of the Iscariot who betrayed his Master for thirty silver shekels. He had settled in Lima some ten years previously. Equally to please his taste and serve his interests he had chosen a residence on the outskirts of the suburb of San Lazaro, where he applied himself to the most unscrupulous practices. Gradually his home assumed more and more of luxury, till at length he had a mansion sumptuous in its furniture, a numerous retinue of servants, and such splendid equipages as only belonged to men of unbounded affluence.
When Samuel first took up his abode in Lima his daughter was eight years of age. Already graceful and captivating in her manner, she was the very idol of the Jew. Her beauty increased with her age, and attracted universal admiration, and before long it was generally understood that André Certa, the rich half-breed, was desperately smitten with her; what would have appeared inexplicable was that the sum of a hundred thousand piastres should be the price of Sarah's hand, but that part of the contract was a secret. Besides, it was a part of old Samuel's nature to make a profit out of the sentimental emotions just as though they were marketable products. Banker, usurer, broker, and ship-owner, he had a faculty for doing business with everyone who came in his way. The schooner Annunciation, which ​that very night was seeking to land at the mouth of the Rimac, was his property.
Eagerly devoted as he was to the transactions of business, this man, with the persistence of his race, found time to fulfil the religious offices of his creed with the most punctilious regularity, and his daughter had been strictly trained in the same faith; consequently, after André, in the course of their conversation, had let it be seen how much the fact displeased him, the old man sat for a time pensive and silent. André at length broke the silence.
"You must be aware," he said, "that the motive under which I contemplate marrying your daughter will compel her to become a Catholic."
"True," answered Samuel in a mournful tone, "but, by the holy Bible, as sure as Sarah is my daughter, Sarah will be a Jewess still!"
At this moment the door was opened, and the steward of the household entered.
"Has the assassin been arrested?" asked the Jew.
"We believe him dead," replied the steward.
"Dead!" exclaimed André, with a gesture of delight.
"So 'tis thought; he found himself upon the bridge with us pursuing him from behind, and a guard of soldiers just in front, and in order to escape, he jumped over the parapet and flung himself into the stream."
"But what makes you think that he did not reach one of the banks?" asked Samuel.
"Because the melting snow has swollen the stream into a torrent," replied the steward. "Besides, we hurried to each side of the river, but the man was never seen. The sentinels have been left to watch the banks."
"Well," said the old man, "if he is drowned, he has only executed just sentence upon himself But did you recognize who he was?"
"Yes, it was Martin Paz, the Indian of the mountains."
"You mean the man who has now been so long watching my daughter?"
"Of that I know nothing." said the servant indifferently.
The Jew then desired that Ammon, the old duenna, should be sent to him and the steward retired.
"Strange!" exclaimed the old man. "These Indians have so many secret conspiracies; it ought to be known ​how long this fellow has been carrying on his game."
By this time the duenna had entered the room, and stood waiting her master's pleasure.
"Does my daughter know anything of what has occurred to-night?" he inquired.
"I only know," was Ammon's reply, "that when I was roused by the clamor in the house, I hurried to the señora's room, and found her motionless with fright."
"Go on," he said impatiently, "tell me all."
"I pressed her to tell me the cause of her alarm; but she could not be induced to speak, and insisted upon going to bed; she would not allow me to attend her, and I was obliged to leave her to herself."
"This Indian, do you often meet him?"
"I can hardly say often," she replied, "but I must acknowledge that I know him very well by sight about the streets of San Lazaro, and this very evening he came to the señora's assistance in the Plaza Mayor."
"To her assistance! what do you mean?"
After the duenna had detailed the incident, the old Jew muttered wrath fully, "Is it true, then, that Sarah wanted to kneel down amongst those hateful Christians?" And then raising his voice, he threatened that Ammon should quit his service.
"Oh! forgive me, master, forgive me," was her deprecating cry.
"Out of my sight!" shouted Samuel harshly, and the duenna retreated in abashed confusion.
"There is no time to lose, you see," said André Certa, "it is high time that this marriage of ours should come off. But I want rest now, and shall be glad to be left alone."
The old man slowly retired; but before going to his own bed he wished to satisfy himself about the condition of his daughter, and accordingly he entered her apartment as gently as he could.
Sarah was sleeping very restlessly on a bed that was hung round with the richest of silk draperies. An elaborate lamp hung from the decorated boss upon the ceiling, and threw a soft light upon her face, whilst the window was opened just enough to admit the delicious perfume of the aloes and magnolias that were planted outside. With lavish luxury and consummate taste, articles of precious value ​were arranged about the chamber, and it might have been imagined that the mind of the sleeper was reveling amidst their beauties.
Her father came close to her side and bent down to watch her slumber. She was evidently agitated by some painful dream, and once the name of Martin Paz escaped her lips. The old man went to his room.
At break of day Sarah arose in eager haste. She summoned Liberia, an Indian attached to her service, and bade him saddle a horse for himself and a mule for her.
It was no long task for her to array herself in such a toilette as suited her design. A broad-brimmed hat, and her loosely-flowing tresses of black hair sheltered her face from observation, and the better to conceal the thoughts by which she was preoccupied, she placed a small perfumed cigarette between her lips.
She was no sooner mounted than she started off with her attendant across the country in the direction of Callao. The harbor was all alive with excitement, the coastguards having had to keep watch all night long upon the schooner, whose uncertain tackings indicated a fraudulent design. At one moment it would seem as though the vessel was waiting near the river's mouth for some suspicious-looking boats; but before they came alongside she was off again to avoid the long-boats belonging to the harbor. Many were the surmises about her destination. Some said that she had brought a body of Colombian troops, and intended to take possession of Callao, and to avenge the insult offered to the Bolivian soldiers who had been ignominiously expelled from Peru. Others maintained that she was merely a schooner driving a contraband trade in European wool.
To Sarah these speculations were all indifferent. She had only come to the port as a pretext, and now returned to Lima, which she reached at the point nearest to the river. Following the banks of the stream she went as far as the bridge, whence she noticed the groups of soldiers and half- breeds gathered along shore.
Liberta had made the girl acquainted with the events of the night. In obedience to her orders he now inquired further particulars from some of the soldiers, and learnt that although Martin Paz was doubtless drowned, his body had not yet been recovered.
​Ready to faint, Sarah had to gather up all her strength of mind to avoid giving way to bitter grief. Amongst the people who were wandering up and down the bank she caught sight of a wild-looking Indian, whom she immediately recognized as Sambo. Passing close beside him, she heard him mournfully exclaim, "Alas! alas! they have killed the son of Sambo! My son is dead!"
The girl presently recovered her self-possession, and making a sign to Liberta to follow her, and not troubling herself as to whether she was observed or not, she directed her way to the church of St. Anne, and having left her mule in Liberta's care, she entered the Catholic house of prayer, and after she had asked for Father Joachim, she knelt upon the flagstones and prayed for the soul of Martin Paz.
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