Israel Kafka represented the best type of his race, and his
blood boiled at the insult that had been put upon him. The Wanderer saw,
and understood, and at once began to respect him, as men who believe
firmly in opposite creeds have been known to respect each other even in
a life and death struggle.
"I would have stopped her if I could," he said.
"Were you sleeping, too?" asked Kafka hotly.
"I cannot tell. I was powerless though I was conscious. I saw only Simon
Abeles in it all, though I seemed to be aware that you and he were one
person. I did interfere--so soon as I was free to move. I think I saved
your life. I was carrying you away in my arms when she waked you."
"I thank you--I suppose it is as you tell me. You could not move--but
you saw it all, you say. You saw me play the part of the apostate, you
heard me confess the Christian's faith?"
"Yes--I saw you die in agony, confessing it still."
Israel Kafka ground his teeth and turned his face away. The Wanderer was
silent. A few moments later the carriage stopped at the door of Kafka's
lodging. The latter turned to his companion, who was startled by the
change in the young face. The mouth was now closely set, the features
seemed bolder, the eyes harder and more manly, a look of greater dignity
and strength was in the whole.
"You do not love her?" he asked. "Do you give me your word that you do
not love her?"
"If you need so much to assure you of it, I give you my word.
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