His voice became drowned in the general uproar, laughter and groaning, so that only broken sentences reached the small, inattentive audience. Yet he did not cease speaking, but went on quicker and quicker, with heaving breast. It almost seemed as if recognising the futility of his efforts, he tried to stand at his post as messenger of the dead as long as he could. Perhaps he had not lost hope altogether.
"Woe I woe!" called out voices in the crowd. "Heresy and sin have entered the house of Israel! Out of the mouths of children comes blasphemy against holy things."
"Listen, listen!" cried Meir. "It is still far to the end of my ancestor's writing."
"Let us stop his mouth and drive him from the spot where only true
Israelites should speak."
"Listen, it is written here that Israel should leave off expecting a
Messiah in the flesh."
"Woe! woe! he will take from the heart of this only hope and comfort."
"Because he will not come upon earth in the shape of man, but in the shape of Time, bringing to all people knowledge, happiness and peace."
"Meir, Meir, what are you doing? You will be lost! Look at the people! Go away while there is time," whispered those around him.
Ber stood at his side. Eliezer, Aryel, Haim, and a few others surrounded him; but he neither saw nor heeded anything. Large beads of perspiration stood on the proudly-raised brow, and his eyes looked despairingly and angrily at the tumultuous crowd.
Suddenly a dull thump was heard near the entrance door. The melamed had jumped down from the bench, and, with his naked feet, stamped several times upon the floor. Then, in a few bounds, he cleared the crowd, which made way for him, and with a violent jerk of his arm threw down the brass candlestick with the yellow candle. At the same time someone climbed on the bench and blew out the lamp near the door. Except for the pale streaks of moonlight, which came through the windows, the whole room was plunged into darkness, and amidst that darkness seethed and boiled the raging element—an exasperated populace.