The old man threw his hands up in a gesture of thankfulness.
"Blessings on you, my son!" he cried. "These thieves will ruin me while I speak with that foolish animal. Hold fast, my son, and I will give you your breakfast."
Ivan nodded, and the old man turned eagerly to his customers.
Presently he reached over, and handed Ivan a generous piece of bread and some fresh fruit. Ivan watched the throngs as he ate, holding the horse with his left hand, although it was now perfectly quiet.
As he idly watched the persons passing, he noted that with the passing time, the market had become crowded. People moved in throngs.
And then, as the crowd before him happened to part, Ivan noticed in the distance a woman hurrying away. She had a big basket on her arm, filled with provisions. A little girl clung to her other hand. She was ragged, dirty and pale; but Ivan recognized Elinor.
Dropping the horse's rein, he dashed toward them, but the crowd had closed, and he was too late. The earth seemed to have swallowed them. Like a hound on a trail, he searched the market over and over, but not a trace could he find of the woman or child. In his surprise at seeing, Elinor, he had failed to take particular notice of the woman. But as he thought of it, he felt that, it was not the one he had seen in Warsaw and he remembered that that woman had spoken of her sister in Lodz.
Feeling that there was nothing to be gained by remaining longer in the market, Ivan hurried back to the hospital, where he found Warren much better, and fretting because he was not allowed to get up.
"Well, I've seen Elinor!" said Ivan, as soon as he entered the ward.
Warren sat up, his eyes bulging under, his bandage.