At the sight of the man dressed in such primitive and now-a-days unseen simplicity, the lord's face twitched all over with suppressed merriment.
"My good sir," he said, turning to the melamed, "is that man deaf and dumb? I asked him twice whether I could see the Rabbi of Szybow, and got no answer."
Saying this, he pointed at Todros, who, craning his neck in the melamed's direction, asked:
"Was sagd er? Was will er?" (What does he say? What does he want?)
Reb Moshe, instead of answering, opened his mouth still wider. At the same time murmurs and whispers became audible from the open window, and the young gentleman, looking in that direction, saw a cluster of faces peeping into the room: the faces looked inquisitive, and a little frightened. He turned towards them and asked:
"Does the Rabbi of Szybow live here?"
"He does," said some voices.
"Where is he, then?"
A great many fingers pointed at the bench near the wall.
"What! That man is your wise and celebrated Rabbi?"