"Now that you are seated," said Schmul, "I will listen to you."
"In a moment. Rest yourself first, you must be tired."
"Oh, as for that, yes! I cannot say how many stairs I have climbed to-day. I have done well. There are some young Poles who sold their last fine shirts to buy thick warm garments. I did not have to make myself hoarse to-day by crying 'Hendel! Everybody called to me. They sold at any price. I had not enough money, and was obliged to borrow of old Mortchel."
"I am obliged," said Jacob in a low voice, "to leave Warsaw. The police paid a visit to my house this morning."
"To your house? Is it possible? Are you then, Rabbi Jacob, one of those madmen who tempt God?"
"No; but the Russian government often arrests innocent people."
"This is true. They do it every day. No one is secure here, nor ever has been under Russian rule."
"Do you know any one who can conduct me in safety to the first post station?"
"Certainly. Under this very roof dwells Mordko. As every one must live by some means, he is a smuggler. Merchandise, papers, men, he gets them all across the frontier. Thus, by exposing his head every day, he feeds his stomach."
"Can I trust him?"