s, he tried to stand at his
post as messenger of the dead as long as he could. Perhaps he had not
lost hope altogether.

"Woe I woe!" called out voices in the crowd. "Heresy and sin have
entered the house of Israel! Out of the mouths of children comes
blasphemy against holy things."

"Listen, listen!" cried Meir. "It is still far to the end of my
ancestor's writing."

"Let us stop his mouth and drive him from the spot where only true
Israelites should speak."

"Listen, it is written here that Israel should leave off expecting a
Messiah in the flesh."

"Woe! woe! he will take from the heart of this only hope and
comfort."

"Because he will not come upon earth in the shape of man, but in the
shape of Time, bringing to all people knowledge, happiness and
peace."

"Meir, Meir, what are you doing? You will be lost! Look at the
people! Go away while there is time," whispered those around him.

Ber stood at his side. Eliezer, Aryel, Haim, and a few others
surrounded him; but he neither saw nor heeded anything. Large beads
of perspiration stood on the proudly-raised brow, and his eyes looked
despairingly and angrily at the tumultuous crowd.

Suddenly a dull thump was heard near the entrance door. The melamed
had jumped down from the bench, and, with his naked feet, stamped
several times upon the floor. Then, in a few bounds, he cleared the
crowd, which made way for him, and with a violent jerk of his arm
threw down the brass candlestick with the yellow candle. At the same
time someone climbed on the bench and blew out the lamp near the
door. Except for the pale streaks of moonlight, which came through
the windows, the whole room was plunged into darkness, and amidst
that darkness seethed and boiled the raging element--an exasperated
populace.

Nobody could have singled out any individual expression. Words,
curses, groans, came down like hailstones, and mixed together in a
chaos indescribable. At last, from the wide open door of the
Bet-ha-Midrash poured the dark stream of people which, outside in the
court, was met by another of those who had not found room within, and
were less noisy, though equally excited. A large wave of moonlight
lit up the open space and the Bet-ha-Kahol with its closed door and
shuttered windows. On the portico steps, motionless and silent, his
elbows resting on his knees, sat the shamos (messenger) awaiting
orders from the interior of the building which, in the midst of the
uproarious mo