Stories and Pictures Part 67

And he was evidently quite aware of what was involved, for he added:

"Let him see for himself what it means. Let him say what is to be done!"

And he looked--what am I to say? A corpse is more beautiful than he was.

Well, I set off. And thinking, I thought to myself, if my _Rebbe knows that the Brisk Rabbi expects to come here_, something will result.

Perhaps they will make peace. That is, not the Brisk Rabbi with the Byale Rebbe, for they themselves were not at strife, but their followers. Because, really, if he comes, he will see us; he has eyes in his head!

But heaven, it seems, will not suffer such things to come to pa.s.s so quickly, and set hindrances in my way. Hardly had I driven out of Byale when a cloud spread itself out over the sky, and what a cloud! A heavy black cloud like soot, and there came a gust of wind as though spirits were flying abroad, and it blew from all sides at once. A peasant, of course, understands these things, he crossed himself and said that the journey, might heaven defend us, would be hard, and pointed with his whip to the sky. Just then came a stronger gust of wind, tore the cloud as you tear a piece of paper, and began to blow one bit of it to one side, and one to the other, as if it were parting ice-floes on a river; I had two or three piles of cloud over my head. I wasn't at all frightened at first. It was no new thing for me to be wet through, and I am not alarmed at thunder.

In the first place it never thunders at Tabernacles, and secondly, after the Rebbe's Shofar-blowing! We have a tradition that after the Shofar-blowing thunder has no power to harm for a whole year. But when the rain suddenly gave a lash across the face like a whip--once, twice, thrice--my heart sank into my shoes. I saw that heaven was against me, driving me back.

And the peasant, too, begged, "Let us go home!"

But I knew there was peril of death. I sat on the cart and heard through the storm the moans of the woman and the crack of the husband's finger-joints: he wrings his hands; and I see Reb Yechiel's dark face with the sunken, burning eyes: "Drive on," he says, "drive on!" And we drive on.

And it pours and pours, it pours from above and splashes from below, from underneath the wheels and the horse's feet, and the road is swamped, literally covered with water. The water frothed, the cart seemed to swim--what am I to tell you? Besides that we lost our way--but I lived through it!

I brought back the Brisk Rabbi by the Great Hosanna.[142]

II

I must tell you the truth, that no sooner had the Brisk Rabbi taken his seat in the cart than it grew still! The cloud broke up and the sun shone through the rift, and we drove into Byale quite dry and comfortable. Even the peasant remarked it, and said in his own language: "A great Rabbi! a powerful Rabbi!"

But the main thing was our arrival in Byale.

The women who were in the house crowded to the Rabbi like locusts--they nearly fell on their faces before him and wept--the daughter in the inner room was not heard, either because of the women's weeping, or else because she had no strength left to complain--Reb Yechiel did not see us, he was standing with his forehead pressed against a window-pane, as though his head were burning hot.

The Brisk Rabbi's son-in-law did not turn round to greet us, either. He stood with his face against the wall, and I could see plainly how his whole body shook, and how his head knocked against the wall.

I thought I should have fallen. Anxiety and terror had taken such hold on me that I was cold in every limb, I felt that my soul was chilled.

Well, did you know the Brisk Rabbi? That was a man--a pillar of iron, I tell you!

A tall, tall man, "from his shoulders and upward he was higher than any of the people;" he cast awe round him like a king.

A long white beard, one point of it, I remember now, had tucked itself under his girdle, the other point quivered over it. His eyebrows were white, thick, and long, they seemed to cover part of his face. When he raised them--Lord of the world! The women fell back as though they were thunderstruck, he had such eyes! There were daggers in them, glittering daggers! And he gave a roar like a lion: "Women, be gone!"

Then he asked in a lower and gentler voice:

"And where is my daughter?"

They showed him.

He went in, and I remained standing quite upset: Such eyes, such a voice! It is quite another sort another world! The Byale Rebbe's eyes are so kind, so quiet, they do one's heart good; he gives you a look, and it's like a shower of gold--and his voice--that sweet voice--soft as velvet--Lord of the world! it goes to your heart and soothes it and comforts it--one isn't afraid of _him_, heaven forbid! The soul just melts for love of him, she desires to escape from the body and unite herself to _his_ soul--she is drawn as a b.u.t.terfly (lehavdil) to a bright flame! And here--Lord of the world, fear and trembling! A Gan, a Gan of the old days! And he has gone in to a woman in child-bed!

"He will turn her into a heap of bones!" I think in terror.

I run to the Byale Rebbe. And he met me in the door with a smile:

"Have you seen," he said to me, "the majesty of the Law? The very majesty of the Law?"

I felt relieved. If the Rebbe smiles, I thought, all will be well.

And all was well. On Shemini Atseres[143] she was over it.

And on Simchas Torah the Brisk Rabbi presided at table. I would have liked to be at table somewhere else, but I did not dare go away, particularly as I made up the tenth man needed to recite grace.

Well, what am I to tell you? How the Brisk Rabbi expounded the Torah? If the Torah is a sea, he was Leviathan in the sea--with one twist of his tail he swam through ten treatises, with another he mixed together the Talmud and the codes, so that it heaved and splashed and seethed and boiled, just as they say the real sea does--he made my head go round--but "the heart knoweth its own bitterness," and my heart felt no holiday happiness! And then I remembered the Rebbe's dream--and I felt petrified. There was sun in the window and no want of wine at table, I could see the whole company was perspiring. And I? I was cold, cold as ice! Over yonder I knew the Torah was being expounded differently--there it is bright and warm--every word is penetrated and interwoven with love and rapture--one feels that angels are flying through the room, one seems to hear the rustle of the great, white wings--_a_, Lord of the world! Only, there's no getting away!

Suddenly he stops, the Brisk Rabbi, and asks:

"What kind of rabbi have you got here?"

"A certain Nach," they reply.

Well, it cut me to the heart. "A certain Nach!" O, the flattery, the flattery of it!

"Is he a wonder-worker?"

"Not very much of one, one doesn't often hear about him--the women talk of him, but who listens to them?"

"Then he just takes money and does nothing wonderful?"

They tell him the truth: that he takes little money, and gives away a great deal.

The rabbi muses.

"And he is a scholar?"

"They say, a great one!"

"Whence is he, this Nach?"

n.o.body knows, and _I_ have to answer. A conversation ensues between me and the Brisk Rabbi:

"Was he not once in Brisk, this Nach?" he asks.

"Was not the Rebbe once in Brisk?" I stammered. "I think--yes!"

"Ah," says he, "a follower of his!" and it seems to me he looks at me as one looks at a spider.

Then he turns to the company:

"I once had a pupil," he says, "Nach--he had a good head, but he was attracted to the other side[144]--I spoke to him once, twice--I would have spoken to him a third time, to warn him, but he disappeared--is it not he? Who knows!"