At this moment he feels a hand laid upon his shoulder, and, turning round to see who it is, starts back as though he saw a ghost. His breath comes thick and fast, his eyes flash, and he clinches his fist. The man he has just cursed stands before him--a sickly, broken old man--Schlome, the Meschumed.
"I must speak to you," he says to Moses. "I have a letter...."
"Silence, wretch!" cries the other, half mad with rage and misery. "Silence .... I will not listen.... May you words choke...."
The Meschumed advances a few steps nearer his brother-in-law, and repeats: "I must speak to you. Curse me if you like, but listen to me. She is...."
Before he can utter another word, Moses has turned and rushed away. He flies like a hunted creature through the narrow streets, across the market-place, and up to his own house. There he sinks half fainting on the stone seat by the door. He sits still, waiting till his breathing becomes more regular, and his pulses beat less quickly. Then all at once he thinks he hears some one mention his name. The first-floor windows are lighted up and widely opened; loud laughter can be heard within the room. Frau Kasimira Lozinska is having an "at home" this evening. Now he hears it again quite distinctly: his name, and then a burst of laughter. He pays no attention to it, but goes into his parlor and sits down, silently pushing away the food and drink the old housekeeper sets before him. "She is dead!"--these words seem to ring in his ears and heart--"of course--she is dead!"
Thus he sits alone in the brilliantly lighted room in a tumult of wild thoughts, of passionate internal conflict. All around him is hushed; the melancholy sputtering of the numerous candles is the only sound to be heard.
The wife of the district judge has an "at home" to-night.
The gentlemen are in the ante-room playing at whist and _tarok_, and perhaps a little innocent game of hazard. The ladies in the drawing-room are seated round a large tea-table, drinking tea out of enormous cups, eating sweet cakes of all kinds, and talking a great deal. The only person at all out of humor is the fat wife of the fat estate agent. She is accustomed to be the principal lady in Barnow, but is dethroned for to-day by the wife of a beggarly Government official--i. e., the new registrar. For Frau Emilie comes from Lemberg, the capital of the province, and has brought with her not only the latest fashions in dress, but also a number of piquant stories. In return for these, she is of course told all the scandals of Barnow that relate to any lady who happens not to be present at the time. But that amusement soon comes to an end, as almost every one of any standing is at Frau Kasimira's this evening. Then, as luck will have it, Frau Emilie asks to be told the curious story her husband has heard about from the district judge that day.