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Pioneers | 41 “It’s nothardtoprovesomething,”repliedtheelderyeshivastudent.“Icanprove to you more simply and easily that it’s forbidden to eat piglet even on weekdays, not to mention Yom Kippur. . . . The point isn’t the proof. . . . I myself, may even understand that I won’t be flogged for it, but . . . I still haven’t allowed myself. . . . Do you understand: my mind permits it, but my heart still won’t allow it. . . .” He stood up. The younger yeshiva student stood up, too. Tsiporin checked over their dictation, gave them their assignments, and they left hurriedly. 14 Mirkin came into the room carrying a small bundle of books. “You have some work from Zelingovich,” he said, handing the books to Tsiporin . “But they’ve asked that they be bound better. In some of your previous work, they say, pages have fallen out, several are in the wrong order, and the spine of the book is. . . .” “To hell with them, those aristocrats! There’s no pleasing them!” Tsiporin said, interrupting him with annoyance. Glancing at the table loaded with food, Mirkin exclaimed, “What a feast you have! Even sausage! Hey, you apostates, you!” he added with feigned anger. “What’re you thinking? You’ll devour that pork and as a result all sorts of misfortunes and calamities will befall the Jews!” Switching to a more serious tone, he addressed Eizerman, “Kapluner will give you lessons in Russian and mathematics. Three times a week, from seven to eight in the evening.” “You don’t say!” Eizerman cried ecstatically. “When do we start?” “Today, if you like. . . . But it’s better to rest today; tomorrow I’ll take you there.” “Are those lessons really necessary?” grumbled Tsiporin in a tone of protest and looked at Faevich, as if inviting him to continue. But Faevich wasn’t interested in returning to the previous argument and kept silent. Hillel, who all the while was sitting on the side engrossed in his book, got up slowly and, with bowed head, quietly and unnoticed headed for the door. Passing Mirkin, he whispered to him, “I have something to tell you. . . .” Then he left without being noticed. 42 | Pioneers Mirkin followed him out. “What have you heard?” Mirkin asked hurriedly, after they were alone in the room with the collapsed ceiling. Hillel silently handed Mirkin a piece of paper folded into a thin strip. The note contained several lines written in a woman’s shaky, hasty handwriting : You are my only hope. Have pity, help me! There is no limit to my suffering. I haven’t the strength to continue my struggle. I’ve lost my head completely. . . . Talk with your friends; think up some way to rescue me. I’m ready to do anything, anything at all! I beg you, don’t leave me here, help me! I can’t write any more. . . . Hillel will tell you everything. . . . Your friend, The unfortunate Sonya Mirkin read the note and asked in agitation, “What? Did her father beat her again?” “No, he didn’t, but he’s forcing her to get married,” Hillel replied with exaggerated serenity. “You don’t say!!” “The betrothal’s set for the day after tomorrow. . . .” “No!!!” Mirkin cried suddenly in a decisive, resolute tone; sparks of indignation and fanatical determination flashed in his eyes. “This will never be!! Even if the world comes to an end—this will never be!! No matter what—we must rescue her!! Why are we standing here?” he blurted out suddenly. “Let’s go back into the room! We’ll confer about what to do. . . .” “Wait a moment,” Hillel said, stopping him. “There’s a stranger in there.” “Who?” asked Mirkin in surprise. “Ah, the new fellow? No, never mind, he’s one of us!” he added in reassurance. “But . . . I don’t like him,” Hillel added, frowning in discontent. “Why not?” Hillel raised his head and stared straight at Mirkin with a thoughtful, serious look in his large black eyes. With his upraised head and his open, clever, somewhat sly look, Hillel seemed completely different. Before Mirkin now stood not the meek, modest, timid yeshiva student, but an independent young man, experienced and observant. “Because he’s not yet a man!” Hillel said suddenly in a completely different tone of voice, firm and decisive. “He’s quick . . . hasty,” he added, searching for the precise words. “He’s just arrived, barely had time to look around—and already he’s eating pork! He’s demonstrated his heroism!” [18.224.149.242] Project MUSE...

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