portion of the inheritance. That happened at a time when we were
hiding in the garret. The town was all agog: people ran from every
street to get a look at the renegade, who came to take possession of
a Jewish inheritance. I, too, was seized with a wild desire to get
a look at her, to curse her, to spit in her face . . . . And I
forgot all the dangers that surrounded me.

Young as I was, I considered myself as a Jew responsible for the
wayward one. I lost control of myself, and ran out. But after I
had been in the street for some time, I was seized with fear of the
Catcher. Every stranger I met seemed to me to be a Catcher. I
shrank into myself, walked unsteadily hither and thither, and did
not know how to hide myself. Then a man met me. His large beard
and curled side-locks made me think he was a good man. I looked at
him imploringly. "What ails you, my boy?" he asked in a soft tone.
"I am afraid of the Catcher," said I, tearfully.

"Whose son are you?"

I told him.

"Then come with me, and I shall hide you, my boy. Don't be afraid.
I am your uncle. Don't you recognize me?"

He took me by the arm, and I went after him. Then I noticed that
the children of my neighborhood were eyeing me terror-stricken. The
womenfolk saw me, wrung their hands, and lamented aloud.

"What are they crying about?" I wondered.