carefully avoided even the
smallest deceit! Fie, for shame! If God will, he can help you by honest
means too." But the voice of the Good Inclination was so feeble, so
husky, and the Evil Inclination suggested in his other ear: "Do you know
what? _Borrow_ one hundred rubles! Who talks of stealing? You will earn
some money before long, and then you can pay him back--it's a charitable
loan on his part, only that he doesn't happen to know of it. Isn't it
plain to be seen that it's a godsend? If you don't call this Providence,
what is? Are you going to take more than you really need? You know your
Mechutton? Have you taken a good look at that old maid of yours? You
recollect the bridegroom? Well, the Mechutton will be kind and mild as
milk. The bridegroom will be a 'silken son-in-law,' the ugly old maid, a
young wife--fool! God and men will envy you...." And he, Berel, lost his
head, his thoughts flew hither and thither, like frightened birds,
and--he no longer knew which of the two voices was that of the Good
Inclination, and--

No one saw him leave Moisheh Chalfon's house.

And still his hand remains suspended in mid-air, still it does not fall
against his breast, and there is a cold perspiration on his brow.

Berel started, as though out of his sleep. He had noticed that people
were beginning to eye him as he stood with his hand held at a distance
from his person. He hastily rattled through "For the sin, ..." concluded
the Eighteen Benedictions, and went home.

At home, he didn't dawdle, he only washed his hands, recited "Who
bringest forth bread," and that was all. The food stuck in his throat,
he said grace, returned to Shool, put on the Tallis, and started to
intone tunefully the Prayer of Expiation.

* * * * *

The lighted wax-candles, the last rays of the sun stealing in through
the windows of the house-of-study, the congregation entirely robed in
white and enfolded in the prayer-scarfs, the intense seriousness
depicted on all faces, the hum of voices, and the bitter weeping that
penetrated from the women's gallery, all this suited Berel's mood, his
contrite heart. Berel had recited the Prayer of Expiation with deep
feeling; tears poured from his eyes, his own broken voice went right
through his heart, every word found an echo there, and he felt it in
every limb. Berel stood before God like a little child before its
parents: he wept and told all that was in his heavily-laden heart