An Obscure Apostle Part 38

"He will not allow me to speak, but I will say quickly what I have to say. Do not trust him, gracious lord; he is a bad man, and your enemy. He wants to do you a grievous harm--guard yourself and guard your house like the apple of your eye. I am not an informer; therefore I came to say it in his presence, and warn the gracious lord. He will revenge himself upon me, but that does not matter. I am doing my duty, as every true Israelite ought to do, for it is written: 'The stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you,' and it is further said: 'If thou remainest silent, upon thy head be the woes of Israel.'"

The young n.o.bleman looked at the speaker with some interest, but his eyes twinkled. The quotation from Scripture, beautiful in itself, but easily marred by faulty p.r.o.nunciation, appeared more ridiculous than interesting.

"I perceive that old Saul has a grandson who is well grounded in the Scriptures, and has a prophetic gift; but tell me clearly, and distinctly, my young prophet, what misfortune is threatening me, and why this honest Jankiel, who has been dealing with me for years, has suddenly become my enemy?"

Jankiel stood close to the easy-chair, and, bending closer to the lord, whispered smilingly:

"He is mad. He always foretells all sorts of terrible things, and he hates me because I laugh at him."

"Oh! then I shall not laugh at him and make him hate me," said the n.o.bleman gaily; and turning towards Meir, he asked: "Tell me what is the misfortune that threatens me. If you tell me the truth, you will be doing a good deed, and I shall be grateful for it."

"You ask me a difficult thing, gracious lord; I thought you would understand from a few words. It is hard for me to speak more clearly," and he pa.s.sed his hand over his brow which was wet with perspiration. "Promise me, gracious lord, that if I speak out, my words will fall like a stone into water. Promise me to make use of my information, but not to go to law."

The n.o.bleman looked amused, yet curious.

"I give you my word of honour that your secret will be safe with me."

Meir's burning eyes turned towards Jankiel, his whole frame shook, he opened his mouth--but the words refused to come. Jankiel, seeing his emotion which momentarily deprived him of his tongue, suddenly grasped him by the waist and dragging him towards the door, shouted:

"Why do you enter my house and disturb my honoured guest by your foolish talk? The gracious lord is my guest, has known me for years; there! off with you at once."

Meir tried to get out of Jankiel's hands, and though he was the taller and stronger, Jankiel was nimbler, and despair redoubled his energy. Struggling and panting, both rolled towards the door, and the young gentleman looked at the struggle with an amused expression.

Meir's pale face towering above Jankiel's red head suddenly flushed.

"Do you laugh at me, gracious lord?" he said brokenly.

"You do not know how difficult it is for me to speak, but guard your house from fire!"

At these last words he disappeared through the door, which the panting Jankiel slammed after him.

The lord of Kamionka still smiled. The struggle between the nimble, red-haired Jankiel and the tall young Jew looked very funny. During the battle the long coat tails had flapped about like wings, and Jankiel, in his desperate efforts to get rid of the intruder, had performed the most extraordinary acrobatic feats. It was a ridiculous scene altogether--the more ridiculous as the combatants belonged to a race at which it was an old, time-honoured custom to laugh. How could the young n.o.bleman understand the deeper meaning of the play enacted before him? He saw before him a young Jew who spoke in broken Polish, the grandson of a merchant, and who would be, in his turn, a merchant. That he was a n.o.ble spirit in rebellion against everything mean and dishonest, a despairing spirit longing for freedom and wider knowledge, that coming to him as he did he had done an heroic action that would destroy his whole future--of all this the n.o.bleman had not the slightest suspicion.

After a short pause he looked at Jankiel, and asked:

"Explain to me now; what did it all mean? What kind of a man is he really?"

"What kind of man?" said Jankiel, who seemingly had regained his composure. "It was a stupid affair, and I beg the gracious lord's pardon that it should have happened to him under my roof. He is a madman and very spiteful. He went mad from mere spitefulness."

"Hm!" said the young gentleman. "He did not look like a madman. He has a handsome face and an intelligent one."

"He is not altogether mad--" began Jankiel, but the lord interrupted him.

"He is the grandson of Saul Ezofowich?" he asked, thoughtfully.

"He is Saul's grandson; but his grandfather does not like him."

"Whether he likes him or not, I could scarcely ask his grandfather about him."

"On the contrary, ask him, gracious lord, what he thinks of his grandson," exclaimed Jankiel triumphantly. "Ask his uncles; I will go and bring his uncle Abraham."

"No need," said the n.o.bleman shortly.

He rose, and looked thoughtful, then fixed his eyes upon Jankiel's face.

Jankiel boldly met his searching glance. "Listen, Jankiel," said the lord of Kamionka, "you are a man of years, a respectable merchant, and father of a large family. I ought to trust you more than a young man whom I have seen to-day for the first time, and who may be wrong in the head for anything I know; but there must be something at the bottom of what he tells me. I must get some information about him."

"The gracious lord can get that information very easily," said Jankiel, shrugging his shoulders contemptuously.

The owner of Kamionka thought a little, and then asked:

"Is that celebrated Rabbi of yours in town?"

"Where should he be?" said Jankiel. "He has never been out of the town during his life."

"A steady man, your Rabbi," said the n.o.bleman, reaching for his hat.

"Now, Jankiel, show me the way, and, if I do not hear anything new, I shall at least have seen and spoken with that celebrated man."

Jankiel opened the door for his distinguished guest, and followed him into the square, which was now almost deserted. Half-way across they met Eli Witebski, whom the lord of Kamionka greeted affably. By his manner and appearance the wealthy merchant came a little nearer to the civilised sphere in which the landowner moved himself.

"Has the gracious lord come to town on business?" asked Eli.

"No; I am only pa.s.sing."

"And where might the gracious lord be going now?"

"To see your Rabbi, Witebski."

Witebski looked astonished.

"To see the Rabbi! And what business can the n.o.ble lord have with the Rabbi?"

"It is a ridiculous story, Witebski. There, tell me, do you know Saul Ezofowich's grandson?"

"Which of them?" asked Eli. "Saul has many grandsons."

"What is his name?" asked the n.o.bleman, half-turning his head toward Jankiel.

"Meir, Meir, that worthless fellow!"

Witebski nodded his head as a sign that he understood.

"Well," he said, with an indulgent smile, "I would not quite call him a worthless fellow. He is young, and will mend; he is hot-headed though."

"What! a little wrong here?" laughed the gentleman, pointing to his forehead.

"Well," said Eli, "he is not mad, but rash and impulsive, and just now had done a very foolish thing, and put me into a most awkward position. Ai! Ai! what trouble and vexation I had through him, and shall have still--"

"Oh, that's it!" said the lord. "He is a kind, of half-witted mischief-maker, who does not know what he wants, and gets in everybody's way?"