The Jew

by Józef Ignacy Kraszewski

"Excellent, no one suspects, and therefore it has nothing to fear from the police. It is in the house of the commissaire of the ward."

"Let us go there, then."

Kruder turned into an alley. It was growing light, but the city was still quiet and deserted, and the only people abroad were the milkmen and the hucksters. They stopped before a house. At the entrance were some gendarmes, police, and individuals in citizens' dress. By a staircase which opened on the court they ascended to the second story. The house was new, and the apartment at the door of which they stopped had a fine external appearance. A servant who was half asleep let them in, and without question indicated a second door. This led them to a spacious salon. Two men were writing at a large table by the light of a lamp. The couches and easy-chairs were occupied by young men, whose fatigued air bore witness that they had passed a sleepless night.

Kruder whispered some words into the ears of the two men at the table. These persons, whose faces were somewhat familiar to Jacob, offered him their hands.

"Here," said they, "no one can come to seek you. As we have no secrets from honest men, we will continue our work before you. We conspire even in the open air, in the public streets, and as yet we have not fallen under suspicion. Be seated, take part in our deliberations, give us your advice,--we ask it. Today it is necessary to combine all our forces to arm, to rouse enthusiasm and practise strategy. Do not be disturbed, monsieur; do as you would in your own house."

Kruder, whose custom was to take no sides, went from one to another, read the order of the day over the secretary's shoulder, listened to short dialogues between different persons, and then hastened to some other meeting.

Jacob, left there by his friend, assisted at a strange, and to him novel, spectacle. Every instant the door opened; it was a continual going and coming of individuals of all ages and of all ranks of society. Among them were women, children, Jews, and ecclesiastics. Some brought good or bad news, messages and money, while others came to receive orders or to bring letters, and in this crowd appeared some in uniforms which bore the insignia of high rank in the army. They showed by their faces and bearing traces of a long and fatiguing military career. The breasts of many were covered with decorations gained in the Caucasus or in the Taschkend. In contrast with these officers were workmen, artisans, idlers, and vagabonds. The movement was incessant, and the crowd was continually changing.

A youth who had been wounded came to relate the particulars of the combat, where he had received a bullet in his leg. He asked for a surgeon to extract it, and seemed impatient to return to the seat of war. His face was lighted up with heroism, and the fever of his patriotism exceeded the fever of his wound.

A workman came in haste to announce that the police had made a raid on a clandestine printing-house where he was employed, and from which he had escaped through the roof. Immediate decision was taken to establish another printing-office in another hiding-place.

The revolution displayed an immense activity which, notwithstanding, was defective. Necessary funds were not forthcoming, in spite of the threats and prayers employed to procure them. Every moment there arrived from the insurgents scattered in the forests complaints of lack of arms, powder, ambulances, medicines, and surgeons. There were rumours that this or that emissary had fallen into the hands of the Russians, or that a knavish contractor, who had been paid in advance, had delivered a cargo of guns which proved to be utterly useless, the refuse of the Austrian arsenals. These difficulties did not daunt the committee, for it was composed of men of unheard-of audacity and bravery, who had already accomplished miracles with their scanty resources. Russian surveillance was relaxed, and this fact, which should have made the revolutionists suspicious, encouraged their efforts. Their confidence increased daily. From all the Polish provinces, and even from the districts incorporated with the Russian empire in 1772, came assurances of warmest sympathy, but each accompanied by an urgent prayer to delay the uprising. It was too late. The duchy of Posen, annexed to Prussia, and Galicia, with the city of Cracow, which was subservient to Austria, viewed the situation with the deepest interest, but did not revolt for fear of drawing down on Poland two more adversaries. These remnants of the old republic sent volunteers and money, and at the same time procured some arms from Austria, not always openly, though the government at Vienna closed its eyes and let them pass.