The crafty dealer rented several distilleries and some seventy inns about the country, and ruled over a small army of subtenants and inn-keepers, of the Samson kind, who bought meat once a week, and starved on other days. They depended entirely on Kamionker, who, if he did not treat them generously they, on their side, were not generous towards the peasants, whom they plied with drink. Through his subordinates, Kamionker held thousands of peasants' families under his thumb. Therefore they all came to his inn. He did not himself look after his humble customers, but left them to his wife and his two strong and ugly daughters, who carried bottles and glasses round the tables, together with salted herrings, and different kinds of bread. Nobody could have guessed, seeing the faded woman, shabbily dressed, moving in that stifling atmosphere of alcohol and human breath, that she was the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the country.
Neither did the man in his musty garments who stood humbly at the door of the guest's room, look like a great capitalist and financier.
He stood near the threshold, and his guest, the lord of Kamionka, reclined in an easy-chair smoking a cigar. The young gentleman was tall and handsome; his dark hair fell upon a white forehead, though the other part of his face was slightly browned by the sun. He had a good-natured and thoughtful face.
The gay playfulness with which his eyes twinkled was evidently caused by the sight of the nimble Jew, whose body seemed to be made of india rubber, and the two corkscrew curls behind his ears of a fiery red, seemed to dance to and fro with his every motion.
Then he became thoughtful again, because the red-haired Jew spoke about important business. The young nobleman did not know anything about the man himself with whom he dealt.
He was to him a Jew, and the tenant of his distillery. Thus he might be also a prominent member of a powerfully organised body, a greatly respected and pious person, a mystic deeply versed in sacred knowledge, and finally a man who, in those dirty, freckled hands, held the entangled threads of many Jewish and Christian families; of all this the lord of Kamionka knew nothing. Therefore it never occurred to him to invite the Jew to draw nearer or sit down. Reb Jankiel likewise did not think of such a thing. He had been accustomed to stand humbly, as his fathers had done before him; nevertheless, his pale blue eyes were full of malice whenever the young gentleman turned his look elsewhere and could not see him. It may be Reb Jankiel did not realise his own feelings, yet he could not help seeing the contrast between his present humble attitude and the proud position he occupied in his own community. Such feelings, though ill-defined, if united to a bad heart, could produce no other results than hatred and even crime.
"You bore me, Jankiel, with your everlasting bargains and agreements," said the nobleman carelessly, twisting his cigar between his fingers. "I stopped at your inn for a few minutes to rest my horses, and you get me into business discussions at once."
Reb Jankiel bowed nimbly.
"I beg the gracious lord's pardon," he said smilingly, "but the distillery will be starting work next month, and I should like to renew the agreement."
"Of course you will be my tenant, as you have been these last three years; but there is plenty of time."