—How about you, Kaddour, you saw him…. You saw the Christian strike me … shouts my unfortunate Jew to a big Negro who is impassively peeling a Barbary fig….
The Negro spits his contempt and moves away, he hasn't seen a thing. Neither has the little Maltese, whose coal-black eyes glisten viciously under his biretta; nor the rust-coloured girl from Mahon who, placing a basket of pomegranates on her head, laughs it all, and him, off….
No matter how much the Jew shouts, pleads, demeans himself … no witnesses! Nobody saw anything…. By chance, just then a couple of fellow Zionists pass by. They are humiliated, and cower by a wall. The Jew spots them:
—Quick, quick, brothers. Quick, to the consultant! Quick to the Joustees of the Peas!… The rest of you, you saw him…. you saw him beat the old man up!
As if they'd seen him!… I don't think so.
… Things are getting lively in old Sid'Omar's shop…. The proprietor refills their cups, and relights their pipes. They chat on, and they laugh fit to burst. It's such a pleasure to see a Jew beaten up!… In the middle of the hubbub and smoke, I slip out quietly; I want to wander in the Jewish quarter, to see how my Jew's coreligionists, are taking their brother's outrage….
—Come to dinner tonight, m'sier, the good old Sid'Omar shouted….
I agree and thank him. I go outside. In the Jewish quarter, there is turmoil. The matter has already attracted a lot of attention. Nobody is minding the store. Embroiderers, tailors, and saddlers—all Israel is out on the street…. The men in their velvet caps, and blue woollen stockings fidgeting noisily in groups…. The women, pale, bloated, and unattractive in their thin dresses and gold fronts, have their faces wrapped in black bandages, and are going from group to group, caterwauling…. As I arrive, something starts to move in the crowd. There's an urgency and a crush…. Relying on their witness, my Jew—hero of the hour—passes between two rows of caps, under a hail of exhortations:
—Revenge yourself, brother, revenge us, revenge the Jewish people.
Fear nothing; you have the law on your side.
A hideous dwarf, smelling of pitch and old leather, comes to me pitifully, sighing deeply: