Page:The History of a Lie (1921).djvu/31

 “The banker shrugged his shoulders and gave the watchman a gold coin.

“‘Joel,’ he said in a low voice, ‘the other trustees of the community must not know about this violation of the rule.’

“The watchman nodded, and the companion again disappeared in the dark streets, which had already become deserted, while in the houses people talked merrily and the sounds of holiday festivities were heard.

“How poor, dirty and dark these little houses looked from outside! But it was quite different within! In the rear rooms of many of these houses the bright light of numerous wax candles was reflected in the splendid high mirrors, in expensive dishes and precious rugs. Girls and women, who in the morning perhaps walked with trays in their hands, now were seated at the tables in heavy silk gowns with golden chains and bracelets; their jewels and diamonds were glittering.

“The clock in the town-hall tower struck ten. In the chapel, near the statue of St. Nepomucenus, upon a stone bench, sat a large-sized man, with the pale serious face of Germanic type. Every physiognomist, looking at him, would have said that this man had devoted his youth to serious scientific work and that he had spent many sleepless nights over books.

“The clock had just struck ten when upon the bridge appeared a man in a light summer coat, of about the same age as the young scientist. His face was pale, of waxen color, without the slightest natural red in his cheeks; his particularly prominent nose indicated his Jewish extraction; his forehead was high and large, his head was strongly developed. He walked straight over to the man who was waiting and who quickly arose.

“‘Good evening. I see you have received my letter. Have you it with you?’

“‘Yes, I know it by heart, I have read it so many times. “My friend,” it is written there, “I have promised to give you the key to the Caballah, if I ever find the opportunity to do so. Although I am not always in the habit of fulfilling my vows, I am ready to fulfil this one, if you will wait for me in the evening of October 8, in Prague, on the old Moldau bridge, under the statue of Nepomucenus,” Then follows your name,’