e you can stay to-night. To-morrow you go back.' So he played on
my ignorance, for I was paying at every stage in excess of the legal
fares. But I knew not what powers he had. Every official was a
possible disaster. We hardly lived till the day.

Then I began to beg him to take my _Tallis_ and _Tephillin_
(praying-shawl and phylacteries) for the twelve marks. Said he: 'I
have no use for them; you _must_ go back.' With difficulty I got his
permission to go out into the town, and I took my _Tallis_ and
_Tephillin_, and went into a _Shool_ (synagogue), and I begged someone
to buy them. But a good man came up, and would not permit the sale. He
took out twelve marks and gave them to me. I begged him to give me his
address that I might be able to repay him. Said he: 'I desire neither
thanks nor money.' Thus was I able to replace the amount lacking.

We embarked without a bit of bread or a farthing in money. We arrived
in London at nine o'clock in the morning, penniless and without
luggage, whereas I had calculated to have at least one hundred and
fifty roubles and my household stuff. I had a friend's address, and we
all went to look for him, but found that he had left London for
America. We walked about all day till eight o'clock at night. The
children could scarcely drag along from hunger and weariness. At last
we sat down on the steps of a house in Wellclose Square. I looked
about, and saw a building which I took to be a _Shool_ (synagogue), as
there were Hebrew posters stuck outside. I approached it. An old Jew
with a long grey beard came to meet me, and began to speak with me. I
understood soon what sort of a person he was, and turned away. This
_Meshummad_ (converted Jew) persisted, tempting me sorely with offers
of food and drink for the family, and further help. I said: 'I want
nothing of you, nor do I desire your acquaintance.'

'I went back to my family. The children sat crying for food. They
attracted the attention of a man, Baruch Zezangski (25, Ship Alley),
and he went away, returning with bread and fish. When the children saw
this, they rejoiced exceedingly, and seized the man's hand to kiss it.
Meanwhile darkness fell, and there was nowhere to pass the night. So I
begged the man to find me a lodging for the night. He led us to a
cellar in Ship Alley. It was pitch black. They say there is a hell.
This may or may not be, but more of a hell than the night we passed in
this cellar one does not require. Every vile