lt for me to go," he said at last. "The hardest
task to humble my gray head before Todros," but he added after a
pause, "I will go tomorrow--we must stand up for the child--though he
be rash and does not pay due reverence to the faith and customs of
his father."

While the foregoing took place in the house of Ezofowich, the little
meadow close to the town was covered with a waving, murmuring and
compact mass of people. From this spot, the terrible conflagration
could be seen most distinctly; therefore the whole population, eager
and greedy for sensation, congregated there.

The reflected light of the fire rose above the pine forest, which was
enveloped in a ray light and so transparent that every branch and
stem could be seen distinctly. The wide half-circle of the glare,
dark red below, grew paler and paler above, till the golden yellow
light lost itself in the pale blue sky. The stars twinkled with a
feeble, uncertain light, and on the opposite side, beyond the birch
wood, rose the red ball of the moon.

Among the population, sentences and words, quick and sharp, whizzed
about like pistol shots. Somebody was telling that when Jankiel
Kamionker heard about the fire, he had gone off to the estate tearing
his hair like a madman, wailing and lamenting over the loss of the
spirits which he had there in such quantities. Hearing this, many
people smiled knowingly; others shook their heads compassionately at
the supposed heavy losses of Jankiel; but the greater part of the
people remained silent. They guessed the truth; here and there
somebody knew about it; but nobody dared to meddle in a business so
full of danger, even with an unwary word.

A full hour after the first gleam of the fire had been noticed a
light carriage and four gray horses were seen in full gallop across
the streets in the direction of the meadow.

It was not the regular road to Kamionka, in fact, there was no road
at all; but by driving across the meadow, the young owner shortened
his way considerably. He did not sit in the carriage, but stood
straight up, holding on by the box, seat, and kept his eyes fixed
upon the red glare of the flames, where his mother was, which was
consuming the house of his fathers.

When the horses came to the meadow and he saw the crowd, he shouted
to the coachman:

"Be careful; do not hurt the people."

"A good man," said one in the crowd; "at such a moment he still
thinks of other people."

Some groaned aloud.