"If I am really useful to our cause, be sure that the God of Israel will protect me," replied Jacob.
"Then you will return, safe and sound. I have a presentiment. And waiting here we will drink the bitter cup to the dregs."
Mordko returned, and Jacob, under his guidance, went to a small hotel in the suburbs, where he was given an isolated chamber. He soon slept, and for several hours the fugitive was oblivious to the world.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
[LOVE OF COUNTRY.]
It was not an easy thing to travel in Poland in the time of the revolution. The country was scoured by bands of Cossacks, and battalions of regular troops inundated the cities and villages, took possession of any place they fancied with impunity, and committed all kinds of excesses. In the ravaged fields the unfortunate farmers beheld both their friends and enemies tear from them the nourishment of their wives and children.
Mordko brought Jacob safely by a circuitous route to the post station, whence a carriage took him to the village where Jankiel dwelt.
Here he learned that the two Davids were absent. The elder lived in Warsaw, under the protection of the Russian governor, and the younger took some part in the insurrection, and had acquired the name of an ardent patriot.
Jacob surprised Jankiel, all alone, bent over a large book. He saw how suffering had emaciated the old man, who, not divining who his visitor was, did not raise his head, but signed with his hand that he wished to finish his pious meditation. At the end of a few moments he closed his book, and recognizing Jacob, received him with great cordiality.
"Do you bring me bad news?" he asked.