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And so, while Haigitcha walks in darkness, Yvonne prays in her chapel and Elkan preaches in his church. When Schneemann, the artist, returned from Rome to his native village in Galicia, he found it humming with gossip concerning his paternal grandmother, universally known as the Bube Yenta.
'Yes, old blood's way is sometimes worse than young blood's, said Frau Schneemann, unsmiling. 'You must not forget that Yossel is still a bachelor. 'Yes, and therefore a sinner in Israel I remember, quoth the artist with a twinkle. How all this would amuse his bachelor friends, Leopold Barstein and Rozenoffski the pianist! 'Make not mock.
Nehemiah addressed his wife. 'Did I not say he was a genteel archangel? he cried ecstatically. Barstein was sitting outside a café in Rome sipping vermouth with Rozenoffski, the Russo-Jewish pianist, and Schneemann the Galician-Jewish painter, when he next heard from Nehemiah. He was anxiously expecting an important letter, which he had instructed his studio-assistant to bring to him instantly.
He read it aloud, breaking down in almost hysterical laughter at each eruption of adjectives from 'the dictionary in distress. Rozenoffski and Schneemann rolled in similar spasms of mirth, and the Italians at the neighbouring tables, though entirely ignorant of the motive of the merriment, caught the contagion, and rocked and shrieked with the mad foreigners.
'But Yossel is pious surely? A vision of the psalm-droners and prayer-shriekers in the little synagogue, among whom the hunchback had been conspicuous, surged up vividly. 'He may shake himself from dawn-service to night-service, he will never shake off his father, the innkeeper, said Frau Schneemann hotly.
For a moment the dazzling sunshine continued on Yossel's face, then a cloud began to pass across it. 'But how can I take your money? I am not a Schnorrer. Schneemann did not find the question easy to answer. The more so as Yossel's eagerness to go and die in Palestine seemed to show that there was no reason for packing him off.
'No, no, she is not dying, said Schneemann hastily, adding in a grim murmur, 'unless of love. 'Oh, then, it is not about your grandmother? 'No that is to say, yes. It seemed more difficult than ever to plunge into the delicate subject. To refer plumply to the courtship would, especially if it were not true, compromise his grandmother and, incidentally, her family.
Here, in this classical atmosphere, in this southern sunshine, he felt out of sympathy with the gaunt godly Nehemiah, who had doubtless lapsed again into his truly troublesome tribulations. Not a penny more for the ne'er-do-well! Let his Providence look after him! 'Is she beautiful? quizzed Schneemann. Barstein roared with laughter. His irate mood was broken up.
'Again will he declare that he has been accorded a good writing and a good sealing by the Heavenly Tribunal! 'Well, hasn't he? laughed Schneemann. 'Perhaps he has, said Rozenoffski musingly. 'Qui sa? 'That Fanny of yours was cut out for a rich man's wife, insisted Goldenberg's aunt, shaking her pious wig. 'He who marries Fanny is rich, retorted Elias.
Nehemiah as a petticoated romance was too tickling. 'You shall read the letter, he said. Schneemann protested comically. 'No, no, that would be ungentlemanly you read to us what the angel says. 'It is I that am the angel, Barstein laughed, as he tore open the letter.
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