The History of a Lie Part 3

"The old Rabbi reverently leaned over the tombstone. The watchman heard him p.r.o.nounce a prayer in Jewish. He used so many words of ancient Hebrew, or some other words of a language he did not understand, that he knew only a few separate expressions, although he himself had been in the past a teacher at the Bohemian community.

"Having completed his prayer, the stranger turned to the watchman of the cemetery:

"'When you accepted the position from your predecessor, did he not give you certain instructions?'

"'Me?'

"'Yes, you! It was so from the day the first person was buried in this place.'

"'Well, and what if he did give such instructions,-how does that concern you? This the first time I am asked about this matter since I am employed here.'

"'Because this happens once in a hundred years, and human life rarely lasts as long as that.'

"'I see that you know about it, Rabbi,' said the frightened watchman. 'But I can obey you only if you mention the word which was given to me by my predecessor, because I took a sacred oath on the Bible.'

"The Polish Jew bent down and slowly p.r.o.nounced a word of seven syllables.

"The watchman bowed respectfully.

"'You are the Rabbi!' he said. 'All will be done as you command!'

"'You will send away the friends who are feasting in your house before the clock strikes eleven. At the first stroke you will open the gates of the cemetery, and at the last stroke you will get into your house, lock the doors and windows, lie down in your bed and turn into a corpse together with the members of your household,-into a corpse that sees and hears nothing.'

"'I will neither look nor listen.'

"'The angel of death will leave your soul in your body and will force you to wander about among the graves to the end of time if you do not carry out my orders correctly. Now go, and remember that by virtue of your position you are the servant of the great Jerusalem synagogue. I need not tell you that you should not say anything to that vain, worldly man who brought me here.'

"Both returned to the gates, near which the banker was still on guard.

"'Well,' he said, 'your desire is fulfilled, Rabbi, and you may inform my friend in Warsaw that Rosenberg and Son are always ready to do a favor to a guest recommended by such a personage. Now let us go home; my wife is waiting for us.'

"'Let us go, my son,' replied the Rabbi. 'But relieve me of worldly pleasures. I shall spend the night in prayer!'

"The banker shrugged his shoulders and gave the watchman a gold coin.

"'Joel,' he said in a low voice, 'the other trustees of the community must not know about this violation of the rule.'

"The watchman nodded, and the companion again disappeared in the dark streets, which had already become deserted, while in the houses people talked merrily and the sounds of holiday festivities were heard.

"How poor, dirty and dark these little houses looked from outside!

But it was quite different within! In the rear rooms of many of these houses the bright light of numerous wax candles was reflected in the splendid high mirrors, in expensive dishes and precious rugs. Girls and women, who in the morning perhaps walked with trays in their hands, now were seated at the tables in heavy silk gowns with golden chains and bracelets; their jewels and diamonds were glittering.

"The clock in the town-hall tower struck ten. In the chapel, near the statue of St. Nepomucenus, upon a stone bench, sat a large-sized man, with the pale serious face of Germanic type. Every physiognomist, looking at him, would have said that this man had devoted his youth to serious scientific work and that he had spent many sleepless nights over books.

"The clock had just struck ten when upon the bridge appeared a man in a light summer coat, of about the same age as the young scientist. His face was pale, of waxen color, without the slightest natural red in his cheeks; his particularly prominent nose indicated his Jewish extraction; his forehead was high and large, his head was strongly developed. He walked straight over to the man who was waiting and who quickly arose.

"'Good evening. I see you have received my letter. Have you it with you?'

"'Yes, I know it by heart, I have read it so many times. "My friend," it is written there, "I have promised to give you the key to the Caballah, if I ever find the opportunity to do so. Although I am not always in the habit of fulfilling my vows, I am ready to fulfil this one, if you will wait for me in the evening of October 8, in Prague, on the old Moldau bridge, under the statue of Nepomucenus." Then follows your name.'

"'Yes, that is correct. Have you not yet given up your desire?'

"'Less than ever before! You would render science an invaluable service.'

"'Listen, doctor, bend down a little over the rail; that of which we speak must not be heard even by the waves of the Moldau, if we wish to remain alive.'

"The young scientist looked in astonishment at his comrade, but did as he desired.

"'Three years ago, in Rome, when I promised to acquaint you with the mysteries of the Caballah, I did it more for the sake of boasting of a power and authority which, in reality, I did not possess. Although I had studied for some time the traditions of my nation, rather out of curiosity than because of the love of knowledge, I knew very well that I could hardly penetrate the corridor of those mysteries which I am still regarding as the sophistry and roguishness of exalted minds, invented for the purpose of holding fools in fear and subordination. But several accidental discoveries, made by me since then, have changed my views and have aroused in me a sense of curiosity.

"'You know, notwithstanding our brief acquaintance, that I am not the type of man who would abandon a clue or a conceived plan. What has caused me to make you my companion in satisfying my curiosity-that does not concern you. It is enough that now we have an opportunity to satisfy our mutual desire, and all depends on whether you will agree to accept the conditions upon which I can make you a partner in my investigation.'

"'If these are not against honor and conscience.'

"'In this respect you have nothing to risk, you are rather risking something else-your life. Do you feel that you are capable of facing a serious danger?'

"'For the sake of science, yes!'

"'Very well, in that case I must tell you that I will lead you to a place which we will not leave alive, if our presence is discovered.

The slightest suspicion that we were uninvited witnesses of the secret will bring upon us persecution which will kill us sooner or later.'

"'You are whetting my curiosity, signor!'

"'That is all I wanted to tell you. The other thing-you know that I am a Jew by birth. Although the Jews have driven me from their midst and cursed me according to their custom and traditions because I adopted Christianity,-still I have my own reasons for stipulating a condition-your word of honor that you will be silent about all you will see and hear, until I authorize you to speak.'

"'I swear by my honor.'

"'Very well. You will recall in your investigations of the Caballah that in the mysterious books mention is made of a meeting of the heads or chosen ones of the nation,-a meeting which takes place from time to time?'

"'Yes, in the Yezire it is said very definitely, and if I understood correctly, such meetings take place every hundred years.'

"'Yes. The last meeting took place in 1760 and you recall that shortly afterward the movement of Judaism started. It is now 1787 years since the destruction of Jerusalem and this year is designated for a meeting of the Cabalistic Sanhedrin. This is the day of the meeting; the place is this city. I want to be present at this meeting in spite of the danger and am ready to take you along with me.'

"'But will it not be dishonest to listen, will it not be an unlawful interference with other people's secrets?'

"'Per Bacco! as we Italians say; with such hesitations you must abandon once for all the idea of fulfilling your desire. Or do you think that the people who guard the secret of the Caballah will bring it to you on a tray? As far as I am concerned, I shall discover the secret, at any cost!'

"After reflecting a few minutes, the scientist came to a decision.

"'I shall go with you, come what may!'

"'Very well. Now we have agreed. Let us go,-there is no time to lose.'"

"The tower clock of the town-hall struck eleven. At the first stroke a key clicked in the lock of the cemetery gates. Then followed profound silence which indicated that the cemetery was open. The lights in the Jewish houses were gradually dying out, and at the same time the sounds of the merry feasting also subsided.