He tried to give a whistle and make a gesture with his hand: "Verfallen!" but the lips would not meet properly, and the hand never moved.
"There you are, done for!" the lips whispered. He glanced round, and fixed his eyes on the teachers, and then on his wife, wishing to read in their faces whether there was danger, whether he was dying, or whether there was still hope. He looked, and could not make out anything. Then, whispering, he called one of the teachers, whose looks had met his, to his side.
The teacher came running.
"Done for, eh?" asked Reb Shloimeh.
"No, Reb Shloimeh, the doctors give hope," the teacher replied, so earnestly that Reb Shloimeh's spirits revived.
"Nu, nu," said Reb Shloimeh, as though he meant, "So may it be! Out of your mouth into God's ears!"
The other teachers all came nearer.
"Good?" whispered Reb Shloimeh, "good, ha? There's a hero for you!" he smiled.
"Never mind," they said cheeringly, "you will get well again, and work, and do many things yet!"
"Well, well, please God!" he answered, and looked away.