The sick man shook his head. "She said the evil influence—of course, it seemed evil to her—you wielded over her thoughts, and I suppose mine, too, was more than human—was supernatural."
"Oh, I don't say I'm not more strong-minded than most people. Of course I am, or I should be howling hymns at the present moment. But why does a soldier catch fire under the eye of his captain? What magnetism enables one man to bewitch a nation? Why does one friend's unspoken thought find unuttered echo in another's? Go to Science, study Mesmerism, Hypnotism, Thought-Transference, and you will learn all about Me and my influence."
"Yes, Rivkoly never had any idea of anything outside her prayer-book. Rivkoly—"
"Mention not her name to me," interrupted the hunchback harshly. "A woman who deserts her husband—"
"She swore to go if I blew out the Yom Kippur light. And I did."
"A woman who goes out of her wits because her husband gets into his!" sneered the other. "Doubtless her superstitious fancy conjured up all sorts of sights in the dark. Ho! ho! ho!" and he laughed a ghastly laugh. "Happily she will never come back. She's evidently able to get along without you. Probably she has another husband more to her pious taste."
Moshé raised himself convulsively. "Don't say that again!" he screamed. "My Rivkoly!" Then a violent cough shook him and his white lips were reddened with blood.
The cold eyes of the hunchback glittered strangely as he saw the blood. "At any rate," he said, more gently, "she cannot break the mighty oath she sware. She will never come back."
"No, she will never come back," the sick man groaned hopelessly. "But it was cruel of me to drive her away. Would to G—"
The hunchback hastily put his hand on the speaker's mouth, and tenderly wiped away the blood. "When I am better," said Moshé, with sudden resolution, "I will seek her out: perhaps she is starving."