The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 3, 1904, Page 2

i THE 'SAN” FRANCISCO SUNDAY ~CALL.! By Ezra S. Brudno (Copyright, 1904, by Doubleday, Page & 'Co.) 'THE FUGITIVE | (CONCLUBDED.) on’t you know that the w stands in the way of our age?” I asked. For the this had escaped my You only have she re- t doesn't. i—that's all,” t's all. I thought I had faith and was free prejudices, but at in"a matter-of- sentiment arose rinent apos- spoken Jewish this of form, of the persecutors of word almost or faith to me? gion? 1 felt her hea t inst mine—I felt her g 8 ¢ st m I loved her; s What does love care ch have c brains? s faith. 1Is term for CHAPTER X 'RDEN OF THE CROSS that afternoon estchatik—the main beautiful streets yclone, Now and then eyes to a monument, a thedral and instinctively a d to have be- . 1. At the Pecherskoi I d ed like s monument, Kk -t site of s children were ed obelisk supersti- rested om red to my- bears in “Jesus of . 1 lighted my »als upon the xpired The e grate, and nder I fixed sts within 1 the shape lower still thout a body Thes - the 3 ge. ber that I gazed stupidly at i re his awn picture for along while, ther ctacle peared be- x Viadimir Cathec holy ntly 1 The high- like a frosty rable tw r resound- mble. How The high e open and ere com- nd solemn baptized,” before the zofl's “Ma- vith unusual his clerical 1 font and hand while a were filling the Yet everything about t that T could almost f the 1 1 his d upon 1 front of 1 in bewild » spectators were hu and two apparitions ed their way to where the priest I stood. I shrank back with fright he dvanced a step and put me and the font. and wrapped in a ad his hands and long ped over his head as if The other was the ghost of tall and lean, hollow- h hair disheveled, .and that seemed about to''dart hed and ms ¢ T their cavernous sockets. The priest checked himself, close to me; paritions came touched my clothes; 1 r They both fixed upon me nore horror than words could tell. The man-ghost relaxed his clasped hands and motioned to the right. I looked. The myriads of candles were suddenly extinguished and palpable darkness pervaded the very atmosphere of the church. Suddenly, as from the mouth of a volcano, a streak of flame leaped from the ground, which had been oc- cupled by the audience. By its light I noticed before me priests in robes like clergymen with big crucifixes in their hands groping about in darkness. They all came forward to the flame and threw fagots from a plle that lay The flame turned into a big The priests lifted their voices nd chanted religious mns above the nolsy crackling. Their song was me- lodious. devotional, sad Groans reached my ears; I turned. An old an with long, silvery beard and hair 1 a beautiful maiden with arms nging around his neck were brought before the fire. The maiden’s ive uriant black hair mingled with the old man's white beard, and their tears streamed down together. They lifted their eyes heavenward, and the blaze hted up their contrasting counte- ances—his marred by old age and sor- row, hers blooming ana sweet. The patriarch uttered in a weird voice, that echoed far and wide: ‘“Hear, O Israel! God our Lord, God is one.” Then he exchanged kisses with the maiden by his side, and their tears flowed In one stream. “Yahweh is one,” both repeated. A murmur of surprise passed from priest to priest. Then again every- thing was hushed. Solemnly the aged n and the mailden were led to the rising. flames. The fagots crackled louder and louder, the flames rose higher and higher, the priests sang and chanted with more devotion d a rd wvoice answered b2 : eh is one.” 1 opened my eyes. I found my land- lady standing at the foot of the bed, a trifie frightened. we Mr. Russakoff,” s explained, “I wondered what could have happened to you. Ten o'clock and you were not up yet. I t up m ittle girl and she said the door was U >cked and you were asleep in your clothes. You have looked a little melancholy of late, and I thought God knows what has hap- to ¥ Y must have had u were crying But cry’ 1 ed in I pened to me the that r what had hap- ht before, but all I remember was that I began to ss myself. 1 thought of Katia nd of my obligation to meet her this but the memory of my dream brain. However, my rea- minated, and I,sald to my d to go to my beloved, haume,” and tried to m from my mind.. I ith the towel in my face and laughing at own superstition. “Dreams are the fruit of idle brains,” I murmured; yet the on t expertenced contin- and my heart beat mer. F I con- all ed my superstition and set out to sit Katia met me in the hall, finger on Papa is walting in the re- oom,” she whispered. “I told him of our engagement, but I did not him who you were. At first he was d, but I soon brought him to my way of thinking. He said he would have to give us his lessing, since I loved you so much.” She clasped m 7, and so we went into om. ige Bialnick ¢ eased, but almost cord nce Katia has che you it must best he said, placing one of his trembling hands upon my shoul- d not 100k particu- ess he re- der. “I know my Katia would choose only the right cne.” He drew her within his other arm and kissed her. I shivered at his touch. The peculiar idents of my dream appeared before m Something within me wanted to throw his hand from my shoulder and out “Murderer!” But I controlled myself and stood quietly with my eyes down while he wished us all happiness. CHAPTER XI ON MY WAY TO NAZARETH. The weeks tLat followed my be- rothal were a dream of happiness. I s with Katia a great deal of each day, which is the best description’ I can give of how blissful this period was, I believe that a lover, like a poet, is born not made, and I think I was born a lover. A few months passed by, during which I came in contact h nobody but my beloved Katia. L ave up my lodgings in the Jewish quarter Libedski, in order that my connections with the Jewish people might be cut off entirely; and I did not inform of my friends of my be- trothal nor where I lived, in order to avoid all argument or comment that the step I was about to take would cali forth from them. I cannot say that ) succeeded in dispelling the struggling thoughts against changing my falth, but I overcame them. I fought hard and bitterly, and a constant battle raged in my breast. But Katla's image helped me to conquer. My baptism was set for Sunday, May 18. 1 did not wish to have the ceremor performed ublicly, so it had’ bee: ranged fthal the baptism vlace in the ghouse of Mr. Bialnick’s priest 1 arose early Sunday morning with a painful headache; my heart was beat- ing faster than usuzl and.I was very ous. The morning was particular- , and a flcod of warmth and streamed into my room. I elf carefully with trem- bling hand putting my best clothes, though all the while something was twinging at my heart. “Supersti- tion, foolishness,” I murmured, and tried to think of Katia, but this brought me no solace either. 1 opened several books, but could not read. I opened a volume of Pushkin, glanced at some of his most passionate stan- zas, which at other times had made my blood run warmer, but now they were cold and lifeless to me. I tried to read my favorite pcet, Heine, but none of his ballads could hold my mind. When we have too much to think about we cannot think at all. Our thoughts ny dre on v Sacxine crowd so closely together that we can~ Bot fully grasp a single one. I waited distractedly for the speci- fled hour. I drew my watch from my pocket, lald it on the table and looked at its face. How slow its hands crept! I wound it up every quarter of an hour, and wondered how long fifteen minutes was and how long & man’'s life was. . A clock in the nejghborhood struck two; the appointed hour—the hour to wash off my Judaism with a little Christian water—had arrived. I locked the door of my room, put the key into my pocket with a nervous hand, and walked slowly toward the priest’s house. I had to pass the Jewish settlement Libedski. This caused me some un- easiness. I was ashamed of myself and wished I could avoid it, but there ‘was no other way. An uproar broke upon my ears as I approached Libedski—the wild, boister- ous noise of muzhiks'in a skirmish. But in the Jewish quarter on Sunday! I wondered, and a sudden fear possessed me. People were running from all sides, and forgetting everything eise I ran after them. I soon found myself in the midst of a turbulent mob, jos- tled and carrled along like a wisp of straw on a flowing stream. The street was fllled with gesticulating, brawling peasrnts, who gave vent to volleys of oaths as only descendants of Tartars know how, and rapaciou attacked Jewish shops and dwellings. Here and there savage looking muzhiks, with long, unkempt, sandy halr, bloodshot eyes and disordered dress, shouted and yelled through the windows of wrecked houses like firemen fighting flames. The noises wére deafening; the crash of axes mingled with wild shrieks of victory; the ring of crowbars echoed above cries of agony; the clanking of hatchets drowned plercing screams of butchered babes: whoops of triumph swallowed heartrending groans of de- spair. “Take carel!” bellowed a rioter from a second-story window to the excited ecrowd below, as he shoved out a long mirror, which appeared in the sun like a sheet of quivering fire. An air-split- ting cheer went up as the glass was shattered upon the pavement. “Stand back!" hoarse voices called form another upper story window as & plano was forced through. A second later it struck the sidewalk with a re- sounding crash. “Catch it! Catch It!” a roaring voice came from a third story, as a screaming babe was swung in the air by its feet. S “Ho! ho! ho! ho!" cheered hundreds from the crowd below. “Throw down the Jewish brat!" ‘With the exultation of conquest the screeching babe was flung high in the air like a ball, and it came down upon the pavement with a splash of blood that bespattered the bystanders. “Comrades, a snow is coming,” nounced a blood-stained muzhik, with ® boisterous laugh as a large feather bed was rent in twain and its contents spread to the winds. “Co-0-0ld!"” jeered the crowd with feigned chattering of teeth. “A Jewish frost,” a lad wittlily ex- claimed. ““Make way for the Jew—make way!™ The throng pressed back. Two ruf- Paps drazged an old man by his feet ZEJENISK QUARTES down a high porch and ran through the streets dragging him after them, the Jew’'s ‘white hair sweeping the stones of the pavement and painting their sharp edges red with flowing bloed. And T was on my way to accept the falth of these two-legged beasts! I shuddered. A frightful shriek made my blood curdle. “Help! Help!” A girl with dis- heveled black halr, with her clothes torn into shreds, rushed from a rich house, pursued by several rioters. “Ah! ah! gh!" Lusty exclamations came from all sides at the appearance of the maiden. She was caught and thrown to the ground struggling for her life, for her honor. “Stop!” I cried with all my might, and began to pull away the rioters. They gave me no heéd. “Christians! men! beasts—half!” I shouted at the top of my voice. “Kill the Jew!" a ery mwent up. A number of bystanders dragged me from t assail , raining blows up- on my head “Defend your down-troddéen people,” a voice seemed to call from within me. Clubs, sticks, fron bars littered the ground. T seized a sharp iron and with all my strength hammered the heads bent over their viotim. Some fell bleeding to the ground, Wt others were fighting to finish their diabolical deed. I branished the fron right and left, up and down, furiously. “Blood!" 1 muttered, frantic wi the scene be- fore me. I craved to blood, to wash myself clean with hlood, to sub- merge myself in blood. ‘I struck heads and breasts and shoulders with the rage of a demon, and blood gushed forth abundantly. ‘“Baptize your Jew- tsh soul with blocd,” a weird-like volce whispered to me. And I &id bathe in fresh, hot human blood. “Soldlers! Cossacks!"™ rose a cry of warning, as a squad of horsemen came into the street. 4 ‘“Arrest that Jew!” ordered some one in a shout. I turned and saw the officer whom I had met at Bialnick’s pointing to me. Stop that Jew!"” he commanded again. .But before any oge could stop me I fled to the next street. There the fight was flercer. . Feathers and leaves of books filled the air; porches and balconfes fell "with explo- sive roaring; massive furniture came down upon the pavement with thun- der-like crashes; on every aide were mangled babes, mutilated old Jewish women, aged Jews with crushed limbs and fractured skulls, lacerated girls fighting for their honor. Heré and there fashionably . dressed Chris- tian women bent down to pfck up a plece of precious jewelry or a trinket which the rioters had dropped In their wild excitement. I stopped before the synagogue. A gang of brutes were forcing an en- trance into the house of worship. Its doors were soon stormed and the crowd burst furiousiy in. I pressed In after them. ¥ the ark that cont ed scrolls of the Torah—the book that spired prophets and poets and = stood an.old Jew wrapped in.a T his arms spread across portals begging mercifully: “Kill me, b save the holy Torah.” “Take him to the gallery!” the one who acted as leader commanded Withy a jubilant shgut the strugg! old man was raised In the air and car- ried up to the ‘high gallery. “Throw him down!™ demanded the mob. “Save the Torah—the holy ' Torah,” faintly moaned the victim. he holy Torah—the holy Tora mocked the rioters; and with a heav thud the martyr's bedy struck the floor. I remembered the iron in my hand. “Blood! blood! blood!” I muttersd to myself as the violators began to tear the scrolls of the Torah in strips and trample the parchment under foot. My iron rose and fell mercilessly. I cleared my way until I reached the = door. Finding myself outside, I continued the slaughter. But suddenly my eyes dimmed, I became dizzy, and a hot current passed through my body. The fron. drooped from my élasp and I raised my hand to my forehead. Some- thing like a drop of boiling water dripped down my nose. I wiped it away, but it dripped faster and faster. Tumult, confusion, shrieking, scream- ing, begging, imploring. CHAPTER XIL. A REACTION. *“Where am 17" were the first words I uttered when I opened my eyes after the events described in the last chap- ter. A young lady who stood at the other end of the room came quickly up to me and murmured: “He Is gaining consciousness.” Her face seemed fa- miliar, yet I could not recall her. “Where am I7" I repeated. “Be at ease, Mr. Russakoff. You are among friends.” I looked around. The room was not mine. My bookcase and desk wers missing, and there were three windows here, while mine had only two. On a small table near the bed on which I lay stood little flasks of medisine. I must have been sfok I thought. I tried to collect my.thoughts, but my memory was absolutely blank. I looked now at the woman, now at the drugs, but soon I felt a pain in my head and became half-uncenscious. Flying stones, babes hurled in the ai 4 & sweet-faced young girl In a blue dress with a golden crucifix dangling over her bosom, fire, smoke, lot of blood—a biz poel in swam up to my neck—and blank again. The next time I opened my eyes I found Mr. Levinski and his wife—r now recognized the ycung woman 1 had seen before—seated at my side She was standing with a small flask and a teaspoon in her hand. “How do you feel, Mr. Russakoft?"’ Levinski asked. “I feel no pain,” 1 answered. “What happened to me? Tell me, please.” “T'll tell you when you get a little stronger.. The physiclan forbade us to disturb you in the least.” His wife gave me a spoonful of the liq from the flask. T lay there for some time, gazing at the ceiling, and trying to recall what had occurred be- for I fell sick. Next morning I felt again ‘asked Levinsk had happened. “Can’t you wai o L Bt ot t a little longer?” “But _the anxi restless,” 1 urger‘le'hvimr.m‘(es o ey “Well,"” he said, and sighed, “you w! recall the riot in the Jewish 3:‘:"!\:: about two months ago (two months, did he say?), on May 13 (my mind be- blovd—a which 1 all was stronger and I to tell me what