As he spoke there was a frantic beating at the door. The hunchback's face was convulsed.
"Hasten, hasten, Brother Azrael!" he cried.
The Vapour lightened a little. Moshé Grinwitz seemed to rally. His face glowed with eagerness.
"Open the door! open the door!" he cried. "It's Rivkoly—my Rivkoly!"
The vain battering at the door grew fiercer, but none noted it in the house. Since the shadow of the hunchback had first fallen within that thickly crowded human nest, the doves had become hawks, the hawks vultures. All was discord and bickering.
"Lie still," said the hunchback; "'tis but your fevered imagination. Drink."
He put the jug to the dying man's lips, but it was dashed violently from his hand and shattered into a hundred pieces.
"Give me nothing bought with Christian money!" gasped Moshé hoarsely, his breath rattling painfully in his throat. "Never will I knowingly gain by the denial of the Unity of God."
"Then die like a dog!" roared the hunchback. "Hasten, Brother Azrael!"
The Vapour folded itself thickly about the room. The rickety door was shaken frantically, as by a great gale.