Gabriel's heart beat high. His soul was pierced by a thousand arrows, and the reawakened memory of Michoel's crushing words poured boiling oil into all these open uncicatrized wounds.
"I too am sorry that I fell in with Michoel Glogau so late," said Gabriel with profound emotion.... "but it was in sooth too late, too late!"
Nochum looked enquiringly at Gabriel. The intense trouble that was expressed by his features and words seemed to him incomprehensible. Gabriel observed this, he was seized with a sudden terror as if he feared that he had betrayed his most secret thoughts.... "Farewell," he cried, after a short pause suddenly breaking off, and hurried as fast as he could through the narrow irregular streets.--Nochum gazed after him for a while in astonishment and then went quietly on his way.
Gabriel did not stop till he had reached Blume's house in the Hahnpass. He looked up to the attic windows, one of them was open in spite of the raw wintry cold, and he thought that he perceived in the obscurity the outline of a woman's form.... His heart beat audibly, he laid his hand on the door-latch, but still stood lost in thought.
"Thus then I stand at the goal," he began speaking to himself, at first in low tones, then louder and louder.... "through a long life of torment I have pined for the moment of revenge.... Now it is come, no power on earth can now interpose between me and my revenge.... I will avenge myself.... and then?... then solitary, forsaken, unwept and unregretted--will die on the nearest battle-field.--It might have been otherwise!... Had I encountered that Michoel, whom I now at the end of my wide, wide wandering have found, had I encountered him on that feast of atonement, had he then said those words, which have this day so unsparingly rended my soul--had he then addressed me in such accents--it might have been otherwise! Gabriel Süss, Gabriel Süss, the poor, ill-used, rejected, down trodden,--Gabriel Süss, who has torn himself from the blissful faith of his childhood, Gabriel Süss, who has sought and never found forgetfulness of the past amid the roar of cannon and the turmoil of battle.--Gabriel Süss might have been a support to the wavering, a teacher of his people, a lofty example of humble resignation to the will of God.... His fate was in his own hands. It was his own fault that he perished!... That was what you said, Michoel; but it was too late!... but no! no! I am not, I am not guilty of it.... that is your invention, ye believers in God!... Naught but a malicious, evil chance swayed me, and even at this critical moment would embitter the sweet instant of revenge by a deceitful image of what I might have been.... just as I am hastily setting forth to accomplish my long-coveted revenge, it lets me meet Michoel Glogau!--Oh! it is naught but malicious evil chance! at the moment, when still irresolute I am for the last time imploring thee, whom men call all-mighty, all-merciful,--in the deepest sorrow, that ever crushed a poor human soul, to restore my father to me, a father! a favour that is not refused to the humblest man on earth--at the moment, when I am calling upon thee to restore my father to me, were it but for the shortest interval of time that the human mind is capable of conceiving--to permit me to die in his arms, were it at the penalty of unutterable physical anguish.... At that moment, I learn that he is dead!... Where is thy omnipotence? Where? Bow my stiff neck! shatter my pride! conduct me to my father! and I, Gabriel Süss will return unto thee--dost thou hear? to thee, to faith in thee.... I will repent, and dying will glorify thy name!... but it will not be so--the Grave never gives back its dead.... I was only unexpressibly unfortunate.... and I cry aloud: there is no...."
Gabriel stopped short. A death-like stillness had reigned round about over the then almost deserted Hahnpass, bounded, as it was, by the spacious graveyard, but suddenly a voice issuing from the burial ground, fell upon his ears, a voice which already once before had made his blood run cold with horror, and which he had then accounted an offspring of his heated over-excited imagination.... but this time it sounded clearer; this time it could be no deception.
"My son! my son! Thou, poor, forsaken one, thou that wert born in sin, where art thou? Where shall I seek thee? Oh! that my voice might echo with the power of thunder, that it might reach from one end of the earth to the other.... perchance my poor son would hear the voice of his father and forgive him!..."
Thus it rung in Gabriel's ears. A hollow cry escaped from his breast, he let fall the latch of the house-door which he had held nervously clutched in his hand.--He looked around, a moderately high wall divided him from the burial ground. Suddenly he perceived a small locked door in the wall, and the intensity of his excitement gave a giant strength to the man naturally powerful: at one blow the boards of the door fell in with a crash, and Gabriel found himself in the cemetery.... His flaming eyes flew over the wide snow-covered space. It was profoundly dark, the sky was obscured by thick clouds, the crumbling grave-stones made a strange contrast with the glittering snow-field; the old trees with their frosted branches like hoary sentinels over this place of rest, floated on the grey atmosphere of the background....
Gabriel put his whole soul in ear and eye:--but for a while saw nothing, heard nothing, not a leaf stirred....
Presently there was a movement among the trees close to him. A feverish heat coursed through his veins: he tottered, but recovered himself with superhuman force and with lips firm closed, and hands pressed nervously against his overflowing bursting heart, approached the thicket.... Tremblingly he parted the branches, nor observed, that his hands were torn and bleeding: he advanced ever forwards, and at last broke through the wood.... Exactly at the same instant the moon passed from behind the black clouds that had hitherto veiled it, and cast its full light over the tree-enclosed spot....