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Updated: May 1, 2025
Do you not remember how we travelled along, weary and foot-sore, until you could no longer walk, and I ran to a neighboring village for assistance? When I returned, you had disappeared. Jacob, do you remember nothing?" Mikail stood with his head buried in his hands, drinking in every word of the gesticulating Rabbi.
His occasional visits to Lubny continued, and the General usually profited by the clear, good sense of the young man, who displayed as thorough a knowledge of agriculture as he did of theology. Mikail and Loris, on the other hand, could never agree. The priest had no patience with the hare-brained, pampered young aristocrat, and occasional differences were the result.
"So you really mean to go?" "Yes, my mind is quite made up. I want you to get me in some things from outside." "I will get you anything if you will tell me what you want." "I want most of all two long knives." "Yes, knives are useful," Mikail said; "but they are awkward things to get. I dare not ask any of the people who trade here to get such a thing. Ah!
Godfrey had already given him money for the various purchases, and he now pressed a hundred-rouble note into his hand, and said: "Now, Mikail, you must take this from me; it is not a present to you, but to your brave wife. When you get out you will want to do your share towards making the house she has got for you comfortable.
They took delight in repeating the tale, that they might witness his childish outbursts of passion and fury. This treatment had its desired effect; the boy developed into a rabid Jew-hater. As a child, Mikail was but a servant in the monastery, ill-treated and ill-fed.
The priest broke into a wild laugh which sent a chill through the blood of his hearers. Mendel endeavored to speak to him, to grasp his hand; but Mikail looked at him with a meaningless stare, and turning, without another word, he fled like a maniac from the apartment. General Drentell turned furiously upon the Israelites. "Go!" he cried; "leave the palace! You have done mischief enough!"
For just an instant it was plain that Mikail Suvaroff did not recognize the nephew he hated. But then he knew him, and a flash of cold, malignant hatred lit up his eyes, while his lips curved in a curious, sneering smile. "So it is you?" he said. "I thought I had not seen the last of you on the platform at Virballen! Lieutenant, you may leave us."
"And these injuries," asked Mikail, pale and trembling, "the marks of which I shall carry to the grave, were they not the work of the Jews?" "Of that I know nothing," answered the Countess, carelessly. "This man," pointing to Mendel; "can tell you more about that than I." The face of the priest became livid. "I am a Jew," he cried; "I, a Jew!
Through his indomitable will be corrected many of the abuses which existed in his district, and raised the parish clergy to a higher standard of efficiency and morality. So the years passed. The friendship between Mikail and General Drentell grew stronger as the nobleman learned to value the brilliant intellect of his protégé.
General Dimitri Drentell and his intimate advisers had withdrawn from the festivities and had sought the seclusion of the cabinet. Mikail the priest had just entered. "Ah! Mikail," said the Governor; "you are a late caller." "The train brought me from St. Petersburg but a few minutes ago, and I hastened to present myself to your excellency at once.
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