f him?"

The question had nothing whatever to do with the ruined young
nobleman, but referred to Jankiel.

Some pitied the former sincerely, as also some blamed the latter; but
the landowner was to them a perfect stranger, known to most of them
only by sight. Jankiel Kamionker was connected with them by a
thousand threads of common interest and friendship; besides that, he
was surrounded by the halo of wealth and the reputation of ardent
piety. No wonder that even those who blamed him trembled for his
safety.

"Will they suspect him?" asked somebody here and there.

"Nobody would dream of suspecting him, but for Meir Ezofowich putting
bad thoughts into their heads," was said here and there.

"He has broken the solidarity and the covenant of Israel."

"What else could you expect? He is a kofrim, a heretic!"

"He dared to raise his hand against Reb Moshe!"

"He lives in friendship with the Karaite's girl!"

Those who spoke cast ominous, threatening glances in the direction of
Ezofowich's dwelling.

The house was unusually quiet and lifeless. The windows looked upon
the square, which, as a rule, were open in summer-time so that
anybody could see the daily life of people who had nothing to
conceal, were shut to-day. No one had remembered to open them, or to
straighten the sitting-room--as a rule kept in such perfect order.
The women wandered aimlessly from one place to another; their caps
were crushed and in disorder from their frequently putting their
hands upon their heads; they stood before the kitchen fire and sighed
distractedly. Sarah's eyes were red; her husband, Ber, had two deep
wrinkles on his forehead, a sure sign to her that he suffered
grievously. He did not open his lips to her, but sat with his head
resting upon his hand, looking vacantly at his brothers-in-law.
Raphael had his account books before him, but his thoughts were
elsewhere as he raised his head frequently and looked at his
brothers. Old Saul sat on the sofa reading the sacred books; but,
judging by his countenance, derived but little comfort from them.

Near the window in her deep easy-chair sat the great-grandmother,
dozing. Hers was the only face that did not show any change, or lose
any of its usual serenity. She opened her eyes now and then, then
dozed off again. Soon after twelve o'clock the women busied
themselves with arranging the table for dinner.

The door opened softly. Meir entered the room, and standing close to
the wa