"I wished for it," he said. "I shall ask my grandfather's pardon. I can only think about one thing now: where to go next."
Ber looked wonderingly at the speaker. "How obstinate you are," he remarked. They were near the entrance gate when Ber suddenly stopped.
"Meir, whatever you do, don't go to the government authorities."
Meir passed his hand over his forehead.
"I thought of that," he said, "but I am afraid. If I reveal the whole truth, they will not only punish Kamionker, but also those poor wretches he tempted with his money. Poor people, ignorant people, I am sorry for them--"
He suddenly paused, and looked fixedly in one direction. An elegant carriage, drawn by four horses, crossed the market-square. Meir pointed at the carriage, which stopped before Jankiel Kamionker's inn, and his eyes opened wider, for a sudden idea took hold of his mind.
"Ber!" he exclaimed, "do you see him? That is the lord of Kamionka."
The sun was declining towards the west when, in the porch of Saul's house, stood a group of men gaily conversing among themselves. They were Saul's visitors who, after having feasted at his hospitable board, were now saying good-bye, and pressing the old man's hand, thanking him for his kind reception; then, by twos and threes, they mounted the waiting carts, their faces still turned towards their venerable host, who stood in the porch.
In the sitting-room the women, with the help of the servants, were busy clearing the table, and putting away the dinner service.
The fair was also drawing to an end; the carts grew fewer by degrees, so did the people upon the square. All the noise and liveliness concentrated itself now in the several inns where the people were drinking and dancing. Jankiel Kamionker's inn was by far the most frequented and noisiest, No wonder.
The crafty dealer rented several distilleries and some seventy inns about the country, and ruled over a small army of subtenants and inn-keepers, of the Samson kind, who bought meat once a week, and starved on other days. They depended entirely on Kamionker, who, if he did not treat them generously they, on their side, were not generous towards the peasants, whom they plied with drink. Through his subordinates, Kamionker held thousands of peasants' families under his thumb. Therefore they all came to his inn. He did not himself look after his humble customers, but left them to his wife and his two strong and ugly daughters, who carried bottles and glasses round the tables, together with salted herrings, and different kinds of bread. Nobody could have guessed, seeing the faded woman, shabbily dressed, moving in that stifling atmosphere of alcohol and human breath, that she was the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the country.
Neither did the man in his musty garments who stood humbly at the door of the guest's room, look like a great capitalist and financier.
He stood near the threshold, and his guest, the lord of Kamionka, reclined in an easy-chair smoking a cigar. The young gentleman was tall and handsome; his dark hair fell upon a white forehead, though the other part of his face was slightly browned by the sun. He had a good-natured and thoughtful face.
The gay playfulness with which his eyes twinkled was evidently caused by the sight of the nimble Jew, whose body seemed to be made of india rubber, and the two corkscrew curls behind his ears of a fiery red, seemed to dance to and fro with his every motion.
Then he became thoughtful again, because the red-haired Jew spoke about important business. The young nobleman did not know anything about the man himself with whom he dealt.
He was to him a Jew, and the tenant of his distillery. Thus he might be also a prominent member of a powerfully organised body, a greatly respected and pious person, a mystic deeply versed in sacred knowledge, and finally a man who, in those dirty, freckled hands, held the entangled threads of many Jewish and Christian families; of all this the lord of Kamionka knew nothing. Therefore it never occurred to him to invite the Jew to draw nearer or sit down. Reb Jankiel likewise did not think of such a thing. He had been accustomed to stand humbly, as his fathers had done before him; nevertheless, his pale blue eyes were full of malice whenever the young gentleman turned his look elsewhere and could not see him. It may be Reb Jankiel did not realise his own feelings, yet he could not help seeing the contrast between his present humble attitude and the proud position he occupied in his own community. Such feelings, though ill-defined, if united to a bad heart, could produce no other results than hatred and even crime.
"You bore me, Jankiel, with your everlasting bargains and agreements," said the nobleman carelessly, twisting his cigar between his fingers. "I stopped at your inn for a few minutes to rest my horses, and you get me into business discussions at once."
Reb Jankiel bowed nimbly.
"I beg the gracious lord's pardon," he said smilingly, "but the distillery will be starting work next month, and I should like to renew the agreement."
"Of course you will be my tenant, as you have been these last three years; but there is plenty of time."
"It is better to arrange everything beforehand. I shall have to buy a hundred head of cattle for fattening purposes, and I cannot afford the outlay unless I am sure of the tenancy. If the gracious lord permits, I shall come to-morrow to write the agreement."
The young nobleman rose.
"Very well, come to-morrow, but not in the morning, as I shall not be at home."
"The gracious lord thinks of spending the night in the neighbourhood?" asked Jankiel, his face twitching nervously.
"Yes, in the near neighbourhood," answered the nobleman, and was going to say something more when the door behind Jankiel's back opened gently, and a young Jew, with a pale face and burning eyes, entered boldly.
At the sight of the newcomer Jankiel drew back instinctively, and an expression of terror came into his face.
"What do you want here?" he asked in a choking voice.
The nobleman glanced carelessly at the young Jew.
"Do you want to speak to me, my friend?" he asked.
"Yes, with the gracious lord," said the newcomer, and he advanced a few steps nearer. But Jankiel barred him the way.
"Do not permit him to come nearer, gracious lord, and do not speak with him. He is a bad man, and interferes with everybody."
The lord of Kamionka waved the frantic Jankiel aside.
"Let him speak if he has any business with me. Why should I not speak with him?"
Saying this, he looked with evident curiosity at the youthful face of the intruder.
"The gracious lord does not know me," began the young man.
"And why should the gracious lord know such a good-for-nothing fellow?" interrupted Jankiel. But the lord of Kamiorika bade him be silent.
"I have seen you, gracious lord, at my grandfather's, Saul, whose son, Raphael, buys your corn."
"So you are Saul's grandson?"
"Yes, gracious lord, I am his grandson."
"And the son of Raphael Ezofowich?"
"No; I am the son of Benjamin, the youngest of Saul's sons, who died long ago."
Meir did not speak Polish very fluently, yet he made himself understood. He had heard it spoken by those who came to deal with members of his family, and had learned it of the Edomite, who had also taught him to read and write.
"Did Raphael send you to me?"
"No; I came on my own account."
He seemed to collect his thoughts, then boldly raised his head.
"I came to warn you, gracious lord. Bad people are preparing a great misfortune for you--"
Jankiel rushed forward, and, with outstretched arms, placed himself between the two.
"Will you hold your tongue," he shouted. "Why do you come here to disturb the gracious lord with your foolish talk?" and, turning towards the nobleman, he said:
"He is a madman and a villain."
It was not the lord now who waved Jankiel but Meir himself. With heightened colour, breathing quickly, he pushed him away, said: