Simon rose and bowed. “So be it,” he said in Yiddish.
The Rabbi bowed in return, his hands folded before him, and covered by the sleeves of his long gown. Simon settled himself beside De Richleau, and wrapping his furs around him, was soon asleep.
In the morning the Rabbi who had befriended them came to them again. Simon had been awake for quite a time before he arrived, and had been trying to translate what he wished to say into simple Yiddish phrases. He told the Rabbi the plain truth, without either elaborating or concealing anything.
The Rabbi looked grave. It was his duty to avoid bringing trouble or discredit upon his community, yet he wished, if he could, to aid this brother in the faith from a far country.
“I can take you to the prison,” he said at length. “There are Jewish prisoners whom it is my duty to visit from time to time. It may chance that you shall see the brother whom you seek, but more than this I cannot do. I think it wise, also, that you do not stay here longer than another night, else it may be that you will bring trouble upon us, who have ever many troubles.”
Simon inclined his head gravely, more than happy to have secured so much assistance. “When can we go?” he asked.
“I must speak to the chief Rabbi. If he consents we may leave here at once.”
When he had gone Simon translated the conversation to De Richleau, who had woken stiff, but much refreshed.
“I fear we have undertaken a difficult task,” De Richleau shook his head, despondently. “How are we to plot an escape for a prisoner, which may take days of careful organization, when we are suspects ourselves? However, we can only trust our luck will hold, we’ve been very fortunate so far.”
After a little while the Rabbi returned. “It is well,” he said. “The Rabbi consents. Let us go.”