Part 2 (2/2)
”'Beth Chaim-the house of life.' Thus is the cemetery called. Yes, indeed, this place of rest is a house of life, for from here is given the mysterious impulse which makes the exiles masters of the earth and tyrants of nations,-the impulse which directs the golden calf to the chosen tribe.
”The Jewish town has a.s.sumed a holiday aspect. The stands of the petty retailers have disappeared; Jewish boys and girls were strolling about in their holiday attire. The houses and windows were adorned with green branches. On the old benches sat men, talking seriously; in the alleys youths were chatting. From time to time men and women in their best Sabbath clothes were going to the synagogue, carrying prayer books in their hands; while poor Christian women whom need had forced to work in this quarter were running with keys and dishes in order to prepare for the feast.
”It was the last day of the Feast of Booths, the day of a.s.sembly, and dusk was gathering over the narrow streets, while the Christian part of the city was still brightly illumined by the last rays of the setting sun. Two men (the older wore a black silk mantle, with long earlocks, which showed that he was a Polish Jew; the other was middle aged, in modern clothes, with diamond studs in his s.h.i.+rt and a heavy golden chain on his vest) walked along the narrow streets, without paying any attention to the crowd.
”The younger seemed to be the guide. Having come with his companion to the little house where the watchman of the cemetery lived, he knocked at the closed door, through a crevice of which the bright light of wax candles was seen, showing the watchman's holiday mood.
It was a good summer-a large number of foreigners had visited the cemetery and were generous in their gifts.
”In the doorway appeared the thin face of the watchman, whose short-sighted eyes began to look fixedly into the darkness.
”'Come out into the street, Joel, somebody wants to talk to you!'
”'O, G.o.d of Justice,' said the watchman with amazement, as he came out of the door,-'One of the trustees! What is your pleasure to command me?'
”'This Rabbi desires to make a brief prayer in the cemetery; he is leaving to-morrow morning by train.'
”'In the cemetery? This evening? But you know yourself, Mr. Banker, that I am forbidden to open the gates after sunset, and to-night is also the holy Sabbath.'
”'First of all, there is no need for you to shout here about my calling,' replied the banker, displeased. 'Every Jewish rag-picker will know that banker Rosenberg was here to see you. As for the permit to open the gates, I myself, as a trustee, authorize you to do it. I will wait here until he has completed his prayer. The company in your house must not know what we are doing here. Arrange it so that the curious crowd will not rush in there.'
”The watchman disappeared in the house, but soon returned with a bunch of keys and opened the gates of the cemetery. He took a lantern along and was about to light it.
”'Don't!' said the Rabbi in a low voice. 'I don't need any light.
Lock the gates from the inside!'
”'But, Mr. von Rosenberg--'
”'Lock it, I say!'
”The watchman obeyed.
”'Now lead me to the grave of the holy Rabbi Simeon-ben-Yehudah!'
”'Hold on to my coat, esteemed sir,' said the watchman. 'It is dark and you may stumble over the old graves.'
”'I can see better at night than in the daytime, my son!' answered the learned Polish Jew.
”'Here is the grave!'
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