own exertions. The way was now made easy. Besides,
in thus sacrificing himself for the extinction of the plague he was
doing a _mitzva_ (a good deed) in the sight of the Lord. To refuse was
out of the question. The young man was led in triumph to Itzig's house
and introduced to his future wife, who heard of the arrangement for the
first time and evinced neither pleasure nor dissatisfaction.

The betrothal was duly announced and hasty preparations made for the
coming ceremony, since delay meant new victims to the plague.

Mendel strove with all his eloquence to prevent the carrying out of this
monstrous purpose. Every fibre within him revolted at such folly, and he
hurried from house to house, entreating the most influential members of
the congregation to aid him in opposing it. But the scourge spoke more
eloquently than did the young Rabbi--the people listened to him but
shook their heads. Many who doubted the efficacy of the plan, lacked the
moral courage to oppose an act which met with the approval of the
greater portion of the community.

"Every means should be employed to prevent the disease from doing
further mischief," argued some. "We have vainly tried everything else,
let us try this. God may at last listen to our prayers."

"The _bal-shem_ has commanded it; it is sure to prove successful," said
others.

After a day spent in earnest but ineffectual arguments, Mendel saw that
his endeavors in this direction were futile, and concluding that further
interference would be useless, he sorrowfully wended his way homeward.

The sun shone fiercely on the morrow upon a desolate landscape. All
nature appeared to be under the ban of the plague. The leaves upon the
trees were sere and withered, the brooks were dry and the birds had long
since hushed their melody. The highways were deserted, save where at
intervals a solemn funeral train carried the dead to a final
resting-place.

A strange procession wended its way to the Jewish cemetery. It was not a
funeral, although from the tears and lamentations of those who took part
in it, it might have been mistaken for one. Young and old, men and
women, all in whom superstition still dwelt, followed the cortege to the
field of death and accompanied the bride and bridegroom to the
improvised altar. Thanks to the generosity of Bensef, Beile was richly
attired, and the groom in spite of his poverty was neatly clad. They
walked hand in hand, happy in the consciousness that they