'On the contrary, I like it very sweet. But I save the sugar for my grandchildren.'
The priest laughed at the Jew's astuteness. 'All right! have your tea with sugar and some for your grandchildren as well. Walenty!' he called out, 'bring me my fur coat.'
The Jew began bowing afresh. 'With an entreaty for your Reverence's pardon, I come from Slimak's.'
'The man whose house was burnt down?'
'Not that he asked me to come, your Reverence, he would not presume to do such a thing, but his wife is dead, they are both lying in the stable, and I am sure he has a bad thought in his head, for no one does so much as give him a cup of water.' The priest started.
'No one has visited him?'
'Begging your Reverence's pardon,' bowed the Jew, 'but they say in the village, God's anger has fallen on him, so he must die without help.' He looked into the priest's eyes as if Slimak's salvation depended on him. His Reverence knocked his pipe on the floor till it broke.
'Then I'll go into the kitchen,' said the Jew, and took up his bundle. The sledge-bells tinkled at the door, the valet stood ready with the fur coat.
'I shall be wanted for the betrothal,' reflected the priest, 'that man will last till to-morrow, and I can't bring the dead woman back to life. It's eight o'clock, if I go to the man first there will be nothing to go for afterwards. Give me my fur coat, Walenty.' He went into his bedroom: 'Are the horses ready? Is it a bright night?' 'Quite bright, your Reverence.'
'I cannot be the slave of all the people who are burnt down and all the women who die,' he agitatedly resumed his thoughts, 'it will be time enough to-morrow, and anyhow the man can't be worth much if no one will help him.'…His eyes fell on the crucifix. 'Divine wounds! Here I am hesitating between my amusement and comforting the stricken, and I am a priest and a citizen!