"Ah!" said Sorlé, "we thought we were going to have a quiet time, and now it is all beginning again."
Zeffen did not speak, but burst into tears.
At that moment the old Rabbi Heymann came in, with his old martin-skin cap drawn down to the nape of his neck.
"For heaven's sake let the women and children hurry to the casemates! An envoy has come threatening to burn the whole city if the gates are not opened. Fly, Sorlé! Zeffen, fly!"
Imagine the cries of the women on hearing this; as for myself, my hair stood on end.
"The rascals have no shame in them!" I exclaimed. "They have no pity on women or children! May the curse of heaven fall on them!"
Zeffen threw herself into my arms. I did not know what to do.
But the old rabbi said: "They are doing to us what our people have done to them! So the words of the Lord are fulfilled: 'As thou hast done unto thy brother so shall it be done unto thee!'—But, you must fly quickly."
Below, the call-beat had ceased; my knees trembled. Sorlé, who never lost courage, said to me: "Moses, run to the square, make haste, or they will send you to prison!"
Her judgment was always right; she pushed me by the shoulders, and in spite of Zeffen's tears I went down, calling out: "Rabbi, I trust in you—save them!"