Overcome with lassitude, Jacob, after returning home, threw himself on a couch, and was just going to sleep when the voice of Ivas awakened him. The young man, despite the efforts of the servant to bar the passage at such an early hour, had forced his way into Jacob's room. He wore a heavy hunting-coat, and carried on his shoulders a haversack. Heavy boots completed his costume, and his bearing expressed ardour and energy. "We are to-day," commenced he without preamble, "in opposite camps. But I have not forgotten that I owe my return to Poland to you, and probably my life also, for your helping hand drew me from the deepest misery. I come to thank you for the last time, and to bid you an eternal adieu." "Why that?" "To-day I go directly to the forest. Our insurrection may last some days, and it may last for years. We shall march, armed with batons, against the regular troops. The forests will serve us for camp, fortress, and arsenal. We shall march, scoffed at by some and cursed by others, and accompanied by the tears of the women who love us and whom we love. We will advance with despair in our souls, ever forward!" "Why are you so hopeless?" "Because the young men who had confidence in us have been torn from us, and compelled to put on the uniform of the Muscovite soldier. We must save them or die! You see I have no illusions. I know that I risk my life, and that perhaps in the future we may be accused of presumption, of folly, of puerile enthusiasm. No matter. National honour commands it, and I obey. For the last time, Jacob, I who am so near death adjure you not to be a traitor to your country, not to work against us." "Who has dared to accuse me of treason?" cried Jacob. "This accusation has been circulated. Perhaps they wish to make a striking example. I will no longer be there to defend you, and you will fall a victim to your own obstinacy." "Why I, rather than another? Have I ever made you any promises that I have not kept?" "You have enemies, and very dangerous ones. They accuse you of secret relations with the Russians, here on the first floor, at the rooms of your betrothed." "My betrothed! I have none. She of whom you speak will never be anything to me." "But you go there, and you also go to Henri Segel's, who is in very bad odour with us. You openly speak against us; and, lastly, you refused to pay that money to us." Jacob smiled sadly. "Singular destiny," said he. "I have enemies, and many of them; I, who am no man's enemy. But you, Ivas, you do not mistrust me?" "No, I honour your character; I esteem you; I have defended you, and I will continue to do so; but the great majority of my companions think otherwise." "Let us talk no more of me. I am prepared for the worst. But tell me, is it not possible to delay the insurrection?" "It is impossible, and in my turn I also ask you to speak of something else." He was just going, when Kruder, all out of breath, rushed into the apartment. "Ah! you are here," said he to Ivas; "at last I have found you. I see by your accoutrements that you are off. It is too soon, too soon, do you hear? In Heaven's name do not act prematurely and unreflectingly." "I suppose you would advise us to wait until the Russians seize us?" "You will all perish if you commence now." "So be it. At least our blood will be prolific." "Listen to the voice of reason." "We prefer to listen to that of despair. Have you witnessed any of the scenes provoked by the nocturnal recruiting, when our men have been seized and forced into the Russian army? Have you heard the prayers of the young men torn from their mothers' arms? Do you know what it is to be a Russian soldier?" "I know all; but this is a supreme moment, and your action will involve the salvation or the loss of the country. Your passion is only a heroic egotism. Once more I call you to reason." "Say no more, Kruder. Folly is our reason, our watchword. And now, farewell, Jacob." Ivas and Kruder left at the same time, and Mann, who had just arrived, met them in the antechamber. He was struck with the appearance of the two men. The younger man's dress shocked him. It had been for some days the sign of suspected revolutionists. He sank down in an arm-chair, while Jacob, surprised in the midst of his toilet, dressed himself. "I come," said he, "as your guardian's friend and your well-wisher, although I know you dislike me, to give you a salutary warning. It is useless for you to try to deceive me, or to resort to falsehoods." "I never lie, either to you or to any one else. Learn this, monsieur; it is true that I do not see the necessity of boasting to every one, but I never say anything I do not mean." "If that is so, perhaps we can come to an understanding. I will show you my hand. You are, without flattery, a prominent figure in Jewish society; your education and your fortune assure you an enviable position. That is why you are not absolute master of your acts, of which the responsibility belongs to the class you represent. In compromising yourself, you compromise us. The government watches men of your stamp, and we are judged by your conduct. Every one is talking of your discussion at Madame Wtorkowska's with Count Bavorof and Colonel Sofronof. Pikulinski has spread it in the city. And what did those two men want that just left here? Evidently you are being induced to take part with the revolutionists. What folly! If it only endangered yourself it would not matter so much, but it can injure us who belong to the same society as you." "Is that all?" asked Jacob impatiently. "It is enough, I think. What was the tenor of your conversation with Bavorof, the remembrance of which has made Pikulinski's very hair stand on end?" "Do you know the counsellor of state?" "Certainly! He is an ass in every sense of the word." "And you take notice of his judgment?" "Because Bavorof, also, thinks you a dangerous man. And this young man in revolutionary costume, with his great boots, what was he doing here? A conspirator, probably." "You are mistaken. He came to warn me to be on my guard, for I am threatened with death from his party. You see how that agrees with your accusation." "That proves that you lack tact. You are, then, suspected by both parties." "It is often the fate of a conscientious man to bring upon himself the condemnation of all, because he tells the bitter truth to both without shrinking under their threats or trying to gain favours. I am one of those men who act according to their convictions, and I will not abandon them to please you." Then he added in Hebrew:-- "'Happy he who dies as he was born, pure and without stain.'" (Baba Mezzia, 107. a.) Mann threw upon him a look of ironical compassion that might be literally translated: A fool you have lived, a fool you will die. "Really," said he, "there is nothing to be done with a man who quotes the Talmud when one is talking business. You wish, then, to be incarcerated in the citadel? And we shall suffer more or less from having been intimate with you. That is the worst of it." "What can I do?" "You say that you are not a revolutionist?" "Truly, I am not." "Very well, take sides with those who oppose the revolution." "But they are not content with fighting them legally. They add to it arbitrary terrorism," said Jacob. "Of two evils choose the lesser." "Yes; the evil is in the two extremes, or rather the two extremes meet and form one evil. Despotism above, despotism below. I will serve neither the one nor the other. I am between the two." "I congratulate you on the excellent means you have taken to ruin yourself. I am really sorry for you. The best thing for you in your frame of mind is to depart for foreign lands." "You would advise me, then, to desert, when my duty orders me, in this difficult crisis which has overtaken Poland, to remain and do what I can for truth and justice. If I embarrass you," added he laughing, "you can blow out my brains for the public good." "Unfortunately that is not practicable. We should be implicated in an assassination. Well, if you will not go away, at least shut yourself up, and do not go on the streets." "Then they will say that I am a conspirator." "Meet only Russians." "I will irritate them by my remarks." "Be silent, then." "I must speak." "May Dumah and a million devils catch you at last!" cried Mann, rushing toward the door. "Farewell!" |