"Thou shouldst have let us know," said Miriam gently. "We never dreamed it was possible for thee to come."
"I came as quickly as a letter could have announced me."
"But thou shouldst have cabled."
"Cabled?" The process had never come within his ken. "But how should I dream he could travel? Thy letter said he was on his death-bed. I prayed God I might but arrive in time."
He was for going back at once, but Miriam put him to bed—the bed Isaac should have died in.
"Thou canst cable thy forgiveness, at least," she said, and so, without understanding this new miracle, he bade her ask the schoolmaster to convey his forgiveness to his son.
"Isaac will inquire for me, if he arrives alive," he said. "The schoolmaster will hear of him. It is a very small place, alas! for God hath taken away its glory by reason of our sins."
The answer came the same afternoon. "Message just in time. Son died peacefully."
The Maggid rent his bed-garment. "Thank God!" he cried. "He died in Jerusalem. Better he than I! Isaac died in Jerusalem! God will have mercy on his soul."
Tears of joy sprang to his bleared eyes. "He died in Jerusalem," he kept murmuring happily at intervals. "My Isaac died in Jerusalem."