And so the youngsters were held captive by these strange but insistent hosts, who barred the door of the cottage until the old artist had finished studying, with line and color, what could be learned from the naked body of a member of an unknown race lying before him. But in the midst of the silence of the slowly passing hours there rose the old wail of the accursed girl, which threatened to become a scream. The women hurriedly silenced her with fine fragrant slices from the haunches of the piglet, whose face still bore a pensive and melancholy air. The boy from Seville, who knew himself and was aware that the hunger raging inside him was liable to drive him out of his wits, closed his eyes and covered them with his hands, and tried his hardest to imagine how his father the rabbi would reason in his place. After a short while he came to a simple conclusion, in the spirit of the logic of his sire’s bold discourses. If heaven, which watched over all and exacted payment for every deed, had not hastened to take the soul of a Jewish girl who was gorging herself ceaselessly and with evident pleasure on the forbidden and abominable meat, it might be meant as a clear sign to him that instead of being a martyr to his hunger, which was bringing him close to fainting, it would be better to strengthen himself so he could be ready to escape and raise the alarm.
A plan took shape in his head, and slowly he removed his hands and opened his eyes. He found a great silence all around, for the sated girl had fallen asleep at the feet of one of the women, while from the adjoining chamber there came only the sound of chisel on wood. Rising to his feet, he started to walk across the large chamber in feigned aimlessness, blushing at the sight of the Frankish babe sucking at the pale round breast of the young woman, who eyed the boy calmly. Then, casually, he turned toward the remains of the piglet, still hovering above the dying fire. With an effort he stared into the eyes of the roasted creature as though trying to learn the secret of its stubborn persistence in its unclean nature. Suddenly his face lit up, and he decided to punish it for its obstinacy, and reaching out, he grabbed a pinkish chunk, brought it warily to his mouth, and licked it with the tip of his tongue, wondering at the flavor, which resembled salted butter rather than meat. Before nausea could well up, he thrust the piece of meat into his mouth and chewed it rapidly, then, before its uncleanness had a chance to affect him, he tore off another chunk and thrust it into his mouth, and then another, and one last one to strengthen his spirit in the face of the terrible deed he had done. Only then did he approach the door, unbar it, and run for dear life, paying no heed to the voices of the women, who tried to stop him.
From the pink color of the sky, which had cleared, he realized that they had been detained for a long time and that evening was approaching. He made for the river, which to the best of his knowledge lay straight ahead. For the first time since he had joined the expedition he was utterly alone, among the empty fields that surrounded the small Parisian isle. Since he was careful to avoid isolated cottages along the way, particularly a large one with many windows from which loud sounds of singing were coming, the boy seemed to have caught the girl’s slantwise movement, and his little legs took him along paths that led westward rather than south, so that as twilight descended he found himself not, as he had hoped, on the bank of the river but on top of the little star-shaped hill crowned with a ruined Roman arch where he had stood with the leader of the expedition on that first evening. Then the boy’s body shook with a sob of gratitude that he had been shown the way. Because he could not spew forth what he had eaten, he fell to his knees, as he had learned to do from the black pagan, and swore to expiate the sin he had sinned by means of fasting and prayer. As the twilight extinguished the sun’s dazzling death throes, and on the island in the midst of the river the Parisians began to kindle the lights that would show the little wayfarer the right direction to take, he chose once more the avenue that led him to the open square beside the riverbank, in the hub of which he was surprised to discover the little pile of stones that he had made with his own hands on that distant evening, which still stood, indicating the way back.
When the boy reached the boat, he was not surprised to hear that the black slave and the girl had returned before him and had been taken by Abulafia to his house on the opposite bank, but he was surprised that his father had not waited anxiously for his return but had accepted Abulafia’s invitation to say his evening prayers in the tabernacle. Had the dumb girl managed to recount the sin of the abominable meat, and had his father decided to disown him? Deep sorrow seized the boy, and he tried to drive out the impurity that clung to his guts with a cake of dried figs sprinkled with cinnamon. But the fragrant sweetness spreading in his mouth did not calm his soul, and he decided to seek consolation from Abu Lutfi and Abd el-Shafi, who, being gentiles and therefore living their uncleanness without blame or guilt, might be able to soothe away the sin that burned inside him. He was surprised to find them on the old bridge, sitting and conversing conspiratorially with a third man, a stranger clad in the local garb. Seeing the boy approaching, they fell suddenly silent, and he too halted, as it occurred to him that their impurity, even if it were as wide as the sea, did not extend to the eating of pork, and that if the smell of his abomination assailed their nostrils, their wrath might be doubled at his assault on two faiths at once. So he turned back to the stern and descended into the hold, which during the day had given up all its cargo, now scattered in the world, and stood dark and empty, with only the tawny camel stepping through the emptiness as through the desert.
In this dark space the boy was suddenly flooded with longing for the second wife, beside whose cabin only had he been able to surrender himself to long hours of sweet slumber. He groped his way to the bowels of the ship, to rediscover the scent of the abandoned cabin. There, by the light of a lamp, surrounded by the fragrance of herbs and nard burning on a little incense burner, he discovered the ship’s grieving owner in the company of the first wife. They were sitting together on a blanket spread on the ground, dining in silence. Deep in the bowels of the ship, attentive to the faint flow of the river beneath them, Ben Attar and his wife seemed cut off not only from the existence of the city of Paris but also from whatever was being hatched above their heads on the bridge.
When they caught sight of the young visitor coming to offer his condolences, they smiled at him affectionately and invited him to join their meal and help himself to some of the remaining stew. At first he wished to refuse, not only because he was not in the least hungry, but also because he was afraid to dip his defiled fingers into a clean cooking pot. But he also feared that they might suspect him of refusing to touch the pot because tears of mourning might have fallen into it or because of the touch of the dead woman’s spirit that still inhabited the cabin. Therefore, so as not to offend the owner, in whose hand lay his own safe return to Seville, he dipped cautious fingertips into the pot and picked out a chunk of meat that still smelled of sheep droppings. When he put it into his mouth and closed his eyes, he could see a simultaneously nauseating and attractive image of the furtive faces of the green-clad women in the cottage, standing around the head of the piglet, about to cut off its ears. Finally the nausea that had been restrained thanks to the friendly looks of the gentile women burst forth, and the boy turned deathly pale and swayed fearfully. He tried to escape, but his strength deserted him, and leaning over among the soot-stained timbers, he vomited up clean and unclean meats together. When he saw what was happening in the beloved wife’s cabin he let out a wild shriek, as though the raucous little demon that inhabited the girl had entered him too.