The Jew and Other Stories | Page 8

soon returned with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, and closed my eyes....
Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and clutched at my hands.
'Come along, come along,' she insisted breathlessly.
'Where? what for? let us stop here.'
'To father, to father, quick... save him... save him!'
'To what father?'
'My father; they are going to hang him....'
'What! is Girshel...?'
'My father... I '11 tell you all about it later,' she added, wringing her hands in despair: 'only come... come....'
We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers.... Sara pointed to them without speaking....
'Stop,' I said to her suddenly: 'where are we running to? The soldiers won't obey me.'
Sara still pulled me after her.... I must confess, my head was going round.
'But listen, Sara,' I said to her; 'what sense is there in running here? It would be better for me to go to the general again; let's go together; who knows, we may persuade him.'
Sara suddenly stood still and gazed at me, as though she were crazy.
'Understand me, Sara, for God's sake. I can't do anything for your father, but the general can. Let's go to him.'
'But meanwhile they'll hang him,' she moaned....
I looked round. The secretary was standing not far off.
'Ivanov,' I called to him; 'run, please, over there to them, tell them to wait a little, say I've gone to petition the general.'
'Yes, sir.'
Ivanov ran off.
We were not admitted to the general's presence. In vain I begged, persuaded, swore even, at last... in vain, poor Sara tore her hair and rushed at the sentinels; they would not let us pass.
Sara looked wildly round, clutched her head in both hands, and ran at breakneck pace towards the open country, to her father. I followed her. Every one stared at us, wondering.
We ran up to the soldiers. They were standing in a ring, and picture it, gentlemen! they were laughing, laughing at poor Girshel. I flew into a rage and shouted at them. The Jew saw us and fell on his daughter's neck. Sara clung to him passionately.
The poor wretch imagined he was pardoned.... He was just beginning to thank me... I turned away.
'Your honour,' he shrieked and wrung his hands; 'I'm not pardoned?'
I did not speak.
'No?'
'No.'
'Your honour,' he began muttering; 'look, your honour, look... she, this girl, see--you know--she's my daughter.'
'I know,' I answered, and turned away again.
'Your honour,' he shrieked, 'I never went away from the tent! I wouldn't for anything...'
He stopped, and closed his eyes for an instant.... 'I wanted your money, your honour, I must own... but not for anything....'
I was silent. Girshel was loathsome to me, and she too, his accomplice....
'But now, if you save me,' the Jew articulated in a whisper, 'I'll command her... I... do you understand?... everything... I'll go to every length....'
He was trembling like a leaf, and looking about him hurriedly. Sara silently and passionately embraced him.
The adjutant came up to us.
'Cornet,' he said to me; 'his Excellency has given me orders to place you under arrest. And you...' he motioned the soldiers to the Jew... 'quickly.'
Siliavka went up to the Jew.
'Fiodor Karlitch,' I said to the adjutant (five soldiers had come with him); 'tell them, at least, to take away that poor girl....'
'Of course. Certainly.'
The unhappy girl was scarcely conscious. Girshel was muttering something to her in Yiddish....
The soldiers with difficulty freed Sara from her father's arms, and carefully carried her twenty steps away. But all at once she broke from their arms and rushed towards Girshel.... Siliavka stopped her. Sara pushed him away; her face was covered with a faint flush, her eyes flashed, she stretched out her arms.
'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, thrice accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with the curse of Dathan and Abiram, the curse of poverty and sterility and violent, shameful death! May the earth open under your feet, godless, pitiless, bloodthirsty dogs....'
Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They lifted her up and carried her away.
The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it was they had been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the camp with Sara. He was really ludicrous, in