"See, we will fasten him to the tree with his own belt in such a way that he will not be able to free himself. Then one of us will go over to him and shout in his ear: "'Rebbe,' murderers!"
"What will happen?"
"Nothing. We will run away, and he will shout, 'Hear, O Israel!'"
"How long will he shout?"
"Until he gets used to it."
Without another word, Elya tied the "Rebbe" to the tree by the hands. We stood looking on, and a shudder passed over our bodies.
Is this our teacher? Is this he whose glances we fear? Is this Mazeppa?
"Why do you stand there like clay images?" said Elya to us. "The Lord has performed a miracle. Mazeppa has fallen into our hands. Let us dance for joy."
We took hands and danced around the sleeping Mazeppa like savages. We danced and leaped and sang like lunatics.
We stopped. Elya bent over the sleeping teacher and shouted into his ear in a voice to waken the dead: