The old lady, the mother of the lord of Kamionka, was very ill, and had been carried into a neighbour's house.
To discuss these and other items of news, people stood in groups about the streets or before their houses; all the ordinary business of their every-day life seemed suspended for the time being.
Now and then among the groups a single question was heard repeatedly:
"What will become of him?"
The question had nothing whatever to do with the ruined young nobleman, but referred to Jankiel.
Some pitied the former sincerely, as also some blamed the latter; but the landowner was to them a perfect stranger, known to most of them only by sight. Jankiel Kamionker was connected with them by a thousand threads of common interest and friendship; besides that, he was surrounded by the halo of wealth and the reputation of ardent piety. No wonder that even those who blamed him trembled for his safety.
"Will they suspect him?" asked somebody here and there.
"Nobody would dream of suspecting him, but for Meir Ezofowich putting bad thoughts into their heads," was said here and there.
"He has broken the solidarity and the covenant of Israel."
"What else could you expect? He is a kofrim, a heretic!"