"If that is so, perhaps we can come to an understanding. I will show you my hand. You are, without flattery, a prominent figure in Jewish society; your education and your fortune assure you an enviable position. That is why you are not absolute master of your acts, of which the responsibility belongs to the class you represent. In compromising yourself, you compromise us. The government watches men of your stamp, and we are judged by your conduct. Every one is talking of your discussion at Madame Wtorkowska's with Count Bavorof and Colonel Sofronof. Pikulinski has spread it in the city. And what did those two men want that just left here? Evidently you are being induced to take part with the revolutionists. What folly! If it only endangered yourself it would not matter so much, but it can injure us who belong to the same society as you."
"Is that all?" asked Jacob impatiently.
"It is enough, I think. What was the tenor of your conversation with Bavorof, the remembrance of which has made Pikulinski's very hair stand on end?"
"Do you know the counsellor of state?"
"Certainly! He is an ass in every sense of the word."
"And you take notice of his judgment?"
"Because Bavorof, also, thinks you a dangerous man. And this young man in revolutionary costume, with his great boots, what was he doing here? A conspirator, probably."
"You are mistaken. He came to warn me to be on my guard, for I am threatened with death from his party. You see how that agrees with your accusation."
"That proves that you lack tact. You are, then, suspected by both parties."
"It is often the fate of a conscientious man to bring upon himself the condemnation of all, because he tells the bitter truth to both without shrinking under their threats or trying to gain favours. I am one of those men who act according to their convictions, and I will not abandon them to please you." Then he added in Hebrew:--