think that this narrow, bigoted, greedy people have a great
soul?"

"Israel has a great soul, and I love it more than my life, my
happiness, and my peace." He stopped for a minute, then grasped Ber
by the shoulder. "I know what is wanting in Todros to make him a
great man, and what is wanting in the Israelitish people to show
their greatness to the world. They ought to come out of the Past, in
which they persist to dwell, into the Present. They want Sar-Ha-Olam,
the angel of knowledge, to touch them with his wings."

Whilst the young man spoke thus, his face glowing with excitement,
Ber looked at him thoughtfully.

"When I look at you, Meir, and listen to you, I see myself as I was
at your age. I felt the same anger, the same grief, and I wanted--"

He stopped, and passed his hand over his brow, marked with two deep
lines, and his eyes looked far away as if into the future.

Anybody seeing their animated faces and lively gesticulation as they
stood near the wall of the Bet-ha-Midrash, would have concluded that
they were discussing bargains. What else did people like them live or
care for? Yet they think and suffer, but nobody guesses it or wishes
to penetrate the mystery of their thoughts. It is like the depth of
an unfathomable sea--its depths unknown even to those who are
perishing in it.

"Come home with me," said Ber. "Your grandfather will soon be sitting
down to dinner with his guests and be displeased at not seeing you at
table. There is already a storm brewing for you, because Mistress
Hannah has returned the betrothal gifts, broken off the engagement,
and given Saul a piece of her mind in presence of all the visitors."

Meir carelessly waved his bands.

"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