But the rabbi from Seville, as he sat deep in thought on the deck of the ship, did not imagine that this pledge of defense would have to be called upon this very day, which was dawning slowly and stirring deep fears not only in Mistress Esther-Minna, who had hardly closed her eyes all night, but also in her brother, Master Levitas, who despite his habitual equanimity and confidence was wondering whether the little tribunal that he had organized so hastily in Villa Le Juif would be able to get to the root of the matter and conclude its work before sunset, so that he would be able to rid his home speedily of this southern company that had taken up residence with excessive alacrity. Even though Ben Attar and his small retinue had made every effort to maintain a polite silence during the night, Mistress Esther-Minna was unable to avoid the feeling that her secure existence was being invaded. Since she had lain awake most of the night, she had been unable not to hear the groaning of the bolts of the front door in the middle of the night and the light footsteps disappearing outside. At first she had tried to restrain herself and had not stirred from her bed. But when a long time had passed and the footsteps did not return, she went downstairs and discovered that the door was wide open, the house was abandoned, and there was no one outside in the street. Then she experienced a strange feeling, joyful, yet painful too, that the second wife might have decided to disappear suddenly, either from fear at what the next day would bring or from a sense of guilt at her redundant status. The thought of that dark young woman wandering all alone outside upset her so much that she decided to waken Abulafia to go out and bring her back, for she now felt stirred by compassion.
Before waking her husband she went to confirm her suspicion, but she found Ben Attar’s first wife sleeping peacefully in her place, and the second wife too in the place that had been allotted her, the wretched girl’s cubicle, lying naked in her husband’s embrace. When Mistress Esther-Minna realized her mistake, she found the courage to draw aside the curtain to the rabbi’s bedchamber, and there she discovered an empty bed. Was it possible, she asked Abulafia as the morning dawned, that the legal genius who had been brought especially from Andalus had already fled the field of combat? But Abulafia refused to believe that. No, it was not, he said; why should he run away? It was evident that for some reason Abulafia was in a very good mood, as if he nursed another secret that his wife did not share.
Indeed, this new happy mood that had come upon Abulafia since his uncle’s astonishing arrival exacerbated his new wife’s constant anxiety for the well-being of her marriage, for despite its sweet and bitter moments, it was still impossible to tell whether its spiritual (as opposed to its emotional and physical) sanctity had yet penetrated her young husband’s heart. Even though she was convinced that the hastily convened tribunal that her brother had arranged in Villa Le Juif would have the skill to repulse this bizarre and impertinent invasion that had originated in the south and attacked them from the west, whether it was personal or religious in nature, still she was nagged by a fear that lurking behind this was a new scheme to revive the proscribed partnership. That would revive Abulafia’s traveling, and he would be once more exposed not merely to the menace of highway robbers but also to the temptation of dual matrimony, which the sturdy uncle was trying to demonstrate in the heart of her home could be undertaken without pain or effort.
In the intensifying light of day, when it was impossible to ignore the happiness not only of Ben Attar but of Abulafia too on seeing Rabbi Elbaz returning from his nocturnal visit to the ship, contented after roaming the narrow streets of the Parisian island and replete after his fish breakfast, Mistress Esther-Minna’s beautiful eyes darkened, and biting her thin lips she went to the yard to gain encouragement from her brother, who was inspecting the wheels of the large wagon that was to transport the parties to their tribunal. Since Ben Attar insisted adamantly that the two wives must accompany them, firm in his faith that their presence at his side would strengthen, not weaken, his case, the driver must be asked to give additional power to the wagon by joining a partner to the stout, shaggy horse that was already standing harnessed and ready. How fortunate, Master Levitas chuckled to himself, that the Ishmaelite partner had remained on the ship and did not demand to be a party in the legal dispute, so that they were spared from having to order a third horse. Handing a coin to the Frankish wagoner, he sent him to hire one of the horses that were plowing a field close to the large monastery. And even though Villa Le Juif was not far away and the whole business should be over by evening, Mistress Esther-Minna’s brother sensibly ordered the servants to make ready plenty of food and drink, as provisions for all the travelers, no matter which side of the barricades they stood on, so that the adjudication should be conducted in a mood of satiety and good cheer on all sides.
Indeed, both parties set forth together in good cheer and comradeship, three on one side of the wagon and four on the other, since the boy chose to sit next to the sturdy Frankish driver, who marveled without cease at the darkness of the little Jew’s skin. As soon as they had laboriously climbed a steep hill, still scattered with the remains of Roman stones and columns from the fine houses of the city of Lutetia, which had been sacked by marauders from the north, the road ran level and smooth past a peasant hut, a field of barley, and a hedge of vines. Thanks to the pleasantness of the road they felt no weariness when at midday, after only three hours of traveling, Master Levitas called a halt so that they could eat in a charming wood, which had not only a stream winding among the trees but also a hillock from which one could see the estate of Villa Le Juif on the horizon. Perhaps because he was convinced that the clear verdict of the tribunal would make this their last meal together, he had decided to embellish it with fine embroidered tablecloths spread upon the ground and with elegant cutlery. And even though Mistress Esther-Minna was perfectly able to arrange everything herself, her brother helped her and sliced the long loaves of bread and the dark cheese and offered the large slices on his knife first to the three men and then, after a moment’s hesitation, to the two women too, whom fear had brought closer to each other ever since they had disembarked from the ship. When Master Levitas felt that his usually firm hand was trembling slightly under the burning looks coming from behind the fine veils, he allowed himself to blush a little and to smile shyly into his little beard, before hastily drawing out of the folds of his robe a red leather-bound prayerbook in Amram Gaon’s edition, which he wanted to compare with the one he had noticed in Ben Attar’s bag, which turned out to be in the edition by Saadia Gaon. This was not merely because of a sudden upsurge of scholarly curiosity, but also so that religious conversation might ensure that this simple meal in the bosom of nature did not become a partaking of the sacrifices of the dead.