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66 | Pioneers 22 When Mirkin returned home, his landlady met him at the door; she was a plump countrywoman with the lively, suntanned face of a market vendor. She growled at him hoarsely and angrily, “Some old hag was here looking for you!” “Who was it?” “Some old Jewess,” explained the landlady. “Twice she came. . . .” “Probably the shoemaker’s wife,” Mirkin thought, recalling that he still owed him fifty kopecks. After heating up the samovar, he ate some bread with his tea, which usually composed his dinner. Before he’d finished it, an elderly Jewess, hunched and miserable , wrapped in a large shawl, entered his room. She opened the door hesitantly, crossed the threshold, and said in a dispirited voice, “Good morning, Mirkin. . . .” Recognizing Geverman’s mother, Mirkin felt embarrassed, but immediately got control of himself and rose silently to greet her. “I’ve come to you,” the woman said, her wandering gaze surveying the room, “to see if my Borekh is here. . . .” “No, he’s not.” “Where is he then?” the woman asked, glancing at Mirkin plaintively. Mirkin stared hardheartedly at the ground and made no reply. “But he was here? You know he’s left me?” she cried in entreaty; tears could be discerned in her voice. “Yes, I do!” replied Mirkin decisively and harshly. “Mirkin! Take pity on me! Tell me where he is! Where did he go? What does he intend to do? Take pity: tell me!” She spread her arms in a gesture of despair with the look of a person suffocating. “I really don’t know what he intends to do,” replied Mirkin, somewhat flustered . “He merely told me that you . . .” “Not me, but him!” Geverman’s mother cried insistently. “I didn’t say a word to him, I swear as a Jewish daughter! But he—he slammed the door and ran off! He ran off to . . . to be baptized!!!” she concluded suddenly with a cry of despair. “What are you talking about?” Mirkin exclaimed in astonishment. “What am I talking about? I’m saying what my wounded heart prompts me to say! He’s run off to convert—and you, Mirkin, you’re to blame for everything! You—his teacher and his mentor, you led him astray!” she concluded in deep anguish , but without the least malice, even without reproach. Pioneers | 67 “Listen, Esther!” Mirkin began ardently. “God knows what you’re saying! Why on earth has it entered your head that Borekh plans to convert?” “Oy, it hasn’t just entered my head and I’m not crazy, Mirkin! I know everything . He already has that . . . bo-o-ok, that bo-o-o-o-ok!” she concluded in a singsong voice, as if chanting over the deceased. At last Mirkin understood what’d happened. After finding that Borekh had a copy of the New Testament, she’d decided that her son was planning to convert. “Lis-s-sten!” Mirkin cried almost joyfully. “You’re making a big mistake . . .” “Oy, Mirkin, don’t try to console me, don’t try to convince me!” Esther interrupted him. “I know my son intends to convert! Mirkin!!” she cried suddenly with entreaty and in tears. “Take pity on me! You have a heart . . . a good heart— take pity, return him to me! Mirkin! I’ll kiss your feet, I’ll be your slave forever, but give me back my only son!” She shed bitter tears. Mirkin stood there bewildered, not knowing what to do or how to convince the woman that she was wrong. He looked helplessly from side to side; spreading his arms wide, he repeated, “Esther, listen! I can assure you . . .” “If you were to plead this much with a thief—he’d also take pity on you!” Esther continued, weeping and not listening to Mirkin. “Tell me, what’ve I ever done to you? Tell me, why’ve you murdered me, why’ve you destroyed my only son? Mirkin! You have a mother, too; you’re not made of stone. . . .” “If you want to talk to me, then listen to what I’m saying to you!” Mirkin cried suddenly in a loud and powerful voice, trembling from agitation. “Sit down and listen!” Mirkin’s commanding tone had an immediate impact on Esther; she fell silent and sank onto the stool obediently. “Listen!” Mirkin began, emphasizing every word. “We haven’t just met. You know that I can’t tell a lie or deceive you. Well then, I swear to you that there’s...

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