"If you're only gathering herbs, why can't you look people full in the face? Why do you breathe so hard—eh, Jew?"
And stooping from the saddle, he seized him firmly by the shoulder. The man wrenched himself free, and in so doing his hat fell off, letting them see his noble, thoughtful face.
"Leave me alone!" he cried, threateningly.
Gräfin Jadwiga hastily thrust her horse between the angry men. She was deadly pale, her breath came quick and fast, and her colorless lips trembled as if she were trying in vain to speak. Her eyes never left the Jew's face.
He meanwhile had recovered his self-possession, and although pale, looked calm and collected.
"Who are you?... Is it really you?... Who are you?" she exclaimed, now in a voice sharpened by anxiety, and again as though in joy....
"My name is David Blum," he answered, in a low toneless voice. "People call me Bocher David. I am a Jewish teacher and sick-nurse in your town...."
She reeled in her saddle and hid her face in her hands.
"My God!" she moaned, "is it a bad dream?... It is you, Friedrich!... Your voice!... Your face!... Why are you here, and in that dress?... Can I be going mad?... Friedrich, it must be you ... Friedrich Reimann!..."
She dismounted, and going to him, took his hands in hers. Starsky felt his head going round as he watched the scene.