'So may you be accursed,' she screamed in German; 'accursed, thrice
accursed, you and all the hateful breed of you, with the curse of Dathan
and Abiram, the curse of poverty and sterility and violent, shameful
death! May the earth open under your feet, godless, pitiless,
bloodthirsty dogs....'

Her head dropped back... she fell to the ground.... They lifted her up
and carried her away.

The soldiers took Girshel under his arms. I saw then why it was they had
been laughing at the Jew when I ran up from the camp with Sara. He was
really ludicrous, in spite of all the horror of his position. The
intense anguish of parting with life, his daughter, his family, showed
itself in the Jew in such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks,
and wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was
horrible--intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch was half dead
with terror....

'Oy! oy! oy!' he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to tell you... a
lot to tell you. Mr. Under-sergeant, you know me. I'm an agent, an
honest agent. Don't hold me; wait a minute, a little minute, a tiny
minute--wait! Let me go; I'm a poor Hebrew. Sara... where is Sara? Oh, I
know, she's at his honour the quarter-lieutenant's.' (God knows why he
bestowed such an unheard-of grade upon me.) 'Your honour the
quarter-lieutenant, I'm not going away from the tent.' (The soldiers
were taking hold of Girshel... he uttered a deafening shriek, and
wriggled out of their hands.) 'Your Excellency, have pity on the unhappy
father of a family. I'll give you ten golden pieces, fifteen I'll give,
your Excellency!...' (They dragged him to the birch-tree.) 'Spare me!
have mercy! your honour the quarter-lieutenant! your Excellency, the