And we, a congregation of four little Jews, stood up in the valley
on the estate of Peter Khlopov, concealed by steep hills and by the
darkness of the night: thieves for the benefit of our masters, and
mourners of Zion on our own account. . . . And we chanted out of
the depths of our hearts:

"By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept, remembering Zion."
. . .

We chanted the whole of it, sat down and wept, remembering at the
same time all we had gone through ourselves, and also the position
we were in at that time.--



Here old Samuel shuddered and stopped abruptly. The sun had set,
and he reminded himself that he had forgotten to say his afternoon
prayer. He jumped down hastily, washed his hands in a near-by pool,
returned to his seat, and became absorbed in his devotion.







VI

By and by the streaks of light disappeared in the twilight sky, and
the wintry night threw the mantle of thick and misty blackness over