"I am Michoel Glogau, I was born in Silesia, and have finished here my course of Talmudic study. I have been summoned to Breslau as preacher--and what is your name?"
"I am called Gabriel Mar," he replied to the interrogation in a trembling unsteady voice.
"Gabriel Mar, Mar, Mar," echoed Michoel quite softly and thoughtfully, his eyes fast fixed on Gabriel: "strange!... are you unwell, that you sit there thus languidly on the stones?"
"Yes.... no.... rather--I shall soon be better. Why do you gaze at me so fixedly? only go away, Reb Michoel, do not be disturbed on my account.... I am often wont.... to suffer so. Away, I pray you, away, away...."
Michoel went off, stopping from time to time to look round after Gabriel. He sat for some minutes as if changed to stone, but--whether it was recovered self-possession, or whether the heavy snow which began to fall had roused him--he got up suddenly, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and looked motionlessly at the spot where Michoel had stood, as if to convince himself, that they were not fantastic dreams which hovered over him, then hurriedly strode to his dwelling. As he arrived at the end of the narrow lane that led out of the Jews-town to the Old-synagogue, he suddenly heard his old name Gabriel Süss called. Taken by surprise he involuntarily turned his head--he saw no one and hastened with redoubled speed to his house by the Old-synagogue.
"It is he!" said Michoel stepping from behind the corner of a wall that had concealed him from Gabriel's sight, "my suspicion was correct, Gabriel Mar--is Gabriel Süss. I must speak with him."
Gabriel was once more in his room by the Old-synagogue. In a few hours, since the forenoon when Schlemmersdorf had summoned him to the battle-field, what numberless events had happened within and without him. Frederick had lost his crown, the Emperor had won a highly important victory. He had been present at this weighty catastrophe, had been a witness, a participator in the hot combat, his life had been threatened on all sides. He had stood opposed to Pappenheim, the most accomplished knight in the Imperial army, and believed that he had slain him--and all these occurrences of which any one would have been sufficient to have put the most strong minded into a state of intensest excitement disappeared and left no trace in Gabriel's soul. Michoel's words had called forth a fresh flood of emotion in his overcharged breast. A new sorrow never before anticipated strove with the old grief in his breast. With the whole gigantic strength of his intellect he endeavoured to swing himself up out of the wild chaos of thoughts which would have indubitably thrown any one of weaker mould into the black night of madness.--With both his mighty hands pressed against his inflamed and glowing lofty brow, as if to force all thoughts to one point, he sat for hours by the table in strong inward struggle.
"No, no, no!" he cried out at length impetuously, "now it is too late, too late! Gabriel, thou hast gone, too far, too far, now thou canst never recede.--Thou art like that Acher, he that heard said of himself: 'Turn again ye stiffnecked children.... all but Acher!'--Yes Michoel. Thou man with a beautiful voice, with mild friendly gleaming eyes! Hadst thou stood at my mother's death-bed, hadst thou then addressed me thus.... but they had all rejected me.... Oh, Blume! Blume! Why did you treat me so? Had you but extended to me, I will not say your hand, but your compassion.... Alas! one single word of comfort on that day of atonement, in my fierce wrestling with the unutterable grief! Why did you not speak like this Michoel? Oh! I should have been quite another man, surely, surely, I should have been a changed man!... Blume! you might have been the preserving angel of my life.... You cast me from you, you became my demon!... Gabriel held both hands before his face: yes, you, you," he now suddenly cried, and wild fury repressed all gentle feelings, "you have forced me to take the path which I tread.... you have poisoned my existence, annihilated my hopes!... If I now stand between a comfortless past and a hopeless future, I will at least turn the present to account, I will at least bring my ruined wretched life to a consistent conclusion. I will avenge myself, sweetly, fearfully.... This night I dedicate to revenge--and then--myself to certain death: the next battle I will hurl myself where the enemies' ranks are thickest, will bathe my naked breast in a warm shower of bullets. One blade, one ball will surely find its way to my heart broken with sorrow!--and when alone and forsaken, trampled by horses' feet on the bloody plain, I expire: then will I raise my failing eyes for one last defiant look, then with unbending spirit I will once more exclaim: Where art thou whom men call, all just, all mighty, all merciful? Dost thou behold? I die desolate forsaken unwept,--cursed by the woman whom once I madly loved, rejected by the father...."
This thought, that had been woven like a red thread through Gabriel's spiritual life, this thought, that had continually buoyed him with hope or racked him with despair, according as the waves of his troubled spirit were rising or falling, now worked upon Gabriel, only if possible more violently, if possible, with greater tenacity. He tore open the window in almost mad haste, and looked up to the partially clouded starry heaven: "Give me my father, if thou art Almighty, let me find him, find him to-day, to-day.... and I will offer up to thee the greatest sacrifice, the woefullest sacrifice, the sacrifice of my revenge; let me die in my father's arms ..., and I will perform my vow, yes, yes, I will bow my stiff neck as I die, I will repent, will say that I have sinned, that thou art all merciful, all just, Almighty! my last breath shall be a 'Hear o Israel'.--I will die like a pious Jew: but thou must give me my father, give him to-day! Canst thou do that. Almighty one?"