Once again Riegel the agent comes and lodges at our hotel. If rumor is to be believed, he did not listen to Babtchi’s advice and take his divorced wife back. And if seeing is believing, he is not sorry for it. He has little to say to Babtchi, and what he says will break no hearts. When Babtchi feels this and tries to make him talk, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes, takes a cigarette and lights it, and answers quietly, like a man whose heart is at ease, who feels no pressure. This, my friend, does not please Babtchi, like a maiden who is annoyed with the nightingale for not singing songs of love. But Mr. Riegel is not disturbed by her annoyance; he looks at his watch, as you and I do when we want to get rid of each other — I of you or you of me.
Times change and hearts change with them. For if Mr. Riegel were to behave to Babtchi as he once did, he might turn her heart to him. But Riegel is no longer concerned with turning hearts. So long as a man is married, he casts his eyes on other women; when he gets rid of his wife, he sees that it is possible to do without women.
So Riegel sits, with his glass in front of him and a cigarette case lying on the table. This case, my friend, and the matchbox, too, are of silver; his name is engraved on them and they are a gift from his master, or from himself. And they have changed his ways, for he no longer wonders whether to go to the kitchen to get an ember in order to talk with Mrs. Zommer, nor does he think of lighting his cigarette from Mr. Zommer’s pipe. If we were in the habit of conjecturing, we should conjecture that at this moment he is not thinking either of Babtchi’s father or of Babtchi’s mother. If so, what is he thinking of? That is easy to say and hard to conjecture.
Krolka came and stood in front of Mr. Riegel, bending her head modestly and asking, as usual, in a whisper, “Perhaps, sir, you would like a second glass?” “Go back to your pots, Krolka,” said Babtchi, “if Mr. Riegel wants anything I will bring it to him.” And she asked in a tender voice, “Perhaps you would like something, Mr. Riegel? I’ll bring it to you right away.” And as she spoke she fixed her eyes upon him and waited for his reply.
I did not hear what Riegel replied to Babtchi, and you, my dear sir, did not hear either, because Ignatz came in to ask the agent for alms. This Ignatz, though he has no nose, scents out anyone who comes to the town and goes to him to ask for pieniadze.
Mr. Zommer rose, leaning on his stick, and went to the kitchen. An hour ago he wanted to ask Krolka what Rachel was doing. It was several hours since his wife had gone to see how Rachel was, and she had not yet returned. Mr. Zommer came back and sat down, his pipe in his mouth. So Mr. Zommer sits every day and every hour from the Morning Service until the bedtime prayer.
Now let us ask how Rachel is. Perhaps Krolka knows more than she told Mr. Zommer. Krolka sighed and said, “What shall I say and what shall I tell? The pains of pregnancy are hard on Rachel.” And since Krolka had finished all her work in the kitchen and had nothing to do, she started to tell me the things we knew, such as that everyone had thought Mr. Yeruham Freeman, Miss Rachel’s husband, would marry Miss Erela Bach, that well-taught teacher, the daughter of our neighbor, Mr. Bach, from whom the Lord God had seen fit to take away one leg, and since Miss Rachel had cast her eyes on her girl friend’s mate and taken him away from her, that was why the Lord God was punishing her and giving her a hard pregnancy.
Here Krolka fixed her eyes on me and asked, “And what does an honorable gentleman like you think about it, and what do the holy books write about this kind of thing?” “You were quite right, Krolka,” said I, “to ask me what the holy books write about it, for if you had asked me what I think, I would not have known what to reply; for you must know, Krolka, that our reason is weak, and if we did not look in the holy books we would know nothing. As for what you asked me, I will tell you: If Yeruham had been Erela’s mate, Rachel would not have been able to take him away from her, and if she took him away, it is obvious that it was proclaimed in heaven that Rachel is Yeruham’s mate.” Krolka raised her two eyes to heaven and said, “Blessed be the Almighty who teaches men wisdom.” Then she said to me, “You have put a new soul in my heart, honorable sir.”
While we were standing there, Rachel’s mother came in. She was happy and tired. All day she had been with her daughter. What had she done and what had she not done? Seven women do not do what one mother does for her daughter, and, thank the Lord, her work had been successful. But she found it hard to bear the pangs of pregnancy, did Rachel.
She found it hard to bear the pangs of pregnancy, and small wonder, for Rachel had endured many troubles. Even when she was a little girl, she had suffered from many sicknesses. She had hardly recovered from the sicknesses when the war came, and Rachel was taken from bed, still sick, and put in a sack, and carried on her mother’s back in the sun and the dust of the roads. Once she fell from the sack and was cast among the thorns, where she lay without food and water, and black hornets threatened her life. Now she is not lying among the thorns and there are no black hornets threatening to sting her, but she lies on a broad bed with pillows and coverlets, and her mother feeds her with dainties and gives her milk to drink. If you have seen a fat chicken in the market, you can be sure it is being prepared to make gravy for Rachel; if you have noticed that the milk in the hotel is thin, you can be sure they have taken out all the cream for Rachel. All the money I pay for food and lodging is spent on Rachel, for all Yeruham’s earnings are not enough for more than a laborer’s meal.
Yeruham does all in his power to please his mother-in-law, but she refuses to be pleased by him. Once, Rachel was gripped by her pains and his mother-in-law looked at him with wrathful eyes, which clearly said: Rascal, what have you done to my daughter? Of all Yeruham’s pride, he has nothing left but his curls, and the pride has gone out of them too. Three or four times Yeruham came to the Beit Midrash to tell me his woes; but he had his trouble for nothing. When I asked him to come to the Beit Midrash he did not come; now that he comes he does not find me. Reb Hayim said to me, “That young fellow is wasting away with too much suspense.”
I feel sorry for Yeruham, squatting in the dust all day to mend the roads, in winter as in summer, morning and afternoon. True, in the Land of Israel he did not build towers and palaces either, and his work was harder than it is abroad, for he stood up to the waist in the swamps and set his life in danger. But in the Land of Israel what a man does leads to some end, and if it is not for his own sake, at least it is for others who will come after him. On the other hand, if he had not come back from the Land he would not have found Rachel. However, this should be said: it would have been better for Rachel to remain without a man. Comely girls like Rachel are comely when they are not burdened with a husband.
My other self, who lodges with me, whispered to me, “If it had not been for Yeruham Freeman, Rachel would have been free, and you and I could have looked at her.” Said I to my other, “You are quite right, Rachel was a lovely girl.” At once my other began to paint Rachel’s face before my eyes with all kinds of comely, alluring pictures. Said I to my other, “A great painter is our God.” My other gritted his teeth. “Why are you teasing me?” said I. “It is because you ascribe my deeds to the Holy One, blessed be He,” he replied. “It was not God who painted Rachel’s face before your eyes; it was I.” Said I, “You painted the face of Yeruham Freeman’s wife, but our God painted before me the image of Rachel, the hotel-keeper’s little daughter.” My other laughed and said, “Rachel the hotelkeeper’s daughter and Rachel Yeruham Freeman’s wife are one and the same.” I saw how things were going, and immediately reminded him of the pact I had made with him. He began to be afraid I might change my mind and cancel the pact, so he left me alone.