PAGE 3
The Jew
by
‘What’s your name?’ I said at last.
‘Sara,’ she answered, and for one instant I caught in the darkness the gleam of the whites of her large, long-shaped eyes and little, even, flashing teeth.
I snatched up two leather cushions, flung them on the ground, and asked her to sit down. She slipped off her shawl, and sat down. She was wearing a short Cossack jacket, open in front, with round, chased silver buttons, and full sleeves. Her thick black hair was coiled twice round her little head. I sat down beside her and took her dark, slender hand. She resisted a little, but seemed afraid to look at me, and there was a catch in her breath. I admired her Oriental profile, and timidly pressed her cold, shaking fingers.
‘Do you know Russian?’
‘Yes… a little.’
‘And do you like Russians?’
‘Yes, I like them.’
‘Then, you like me too?’
‘Yes, I like you.’
I tried to put my arm round her, but she moved away quickly….
‘No, no, please, sir, please…’
‘Oh, all right; look at me, any way.’
She let her black, piercing eyes rest upon me, and at once turned away with a smile, and blushed.
I kissed her hand ardently. She peeped at me from under her eyelids and softly laughed.
‘What is it?’
She hid her face in her sleeve and laughed more than before.
Girshel showed himself at the entrance of the tent and shook his finger at her. She ceased laughing.
‘Go away!’ I whispered to him through my teeth; ‘you make me sick!’
Girshel did not go away.
I took a handful of gold pieces out of my trunk, stuffed them in his hand and pushed him out.
‘Your honour, me too….’ she said.
I dropped several gold coins on her lap; she pounced on them like a cat.
‘Well, now I must have a kiss.’
‘No, please, please,’ she faltered in a frightened and beseeching voice.
‘What are you frightened of?’
‘I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, nonsense….’
‘No, please.’
She looked timidly at me, put her head a little on one side and clasped her hands. I let her alone.
‘If you like… here,’ she said after a brief silence, and she raised her hand to my lips. With no great eagerness, I kissed it. Sara laughed again.
My blood was boiling. I was annoyed with myself and did not know what to do. Really, I thought at last, what a fool I am.
I turned to her again.
‘Sara, listen, I’m in love with you.’
‘I know.’
‘You know? And you’re not angry? And do you like me too?’
Sara shook her head.
‘No, answer me properly.’
‘Well, show yourself,’ she said.
I bent down to her. Sara laid her hands on my shoulders, began scrutinising my face, frowned, smiled…. I could not contain myself, and gave her a rapid kiss on her cheek. She jumped up and in one bound was at the entrance of the tent.
‘Come, what a shy thing you are!’
She did not speak and did not stir.
‘Come here to me….’
‘No, sir, good-bye. Another time.’
Girshel again thrust in his curly head, and said a couple of words to her; she bent down and glided away, like a snake.
I ran out of the tent in pursuit of her, but could not get another glimpse of her nor of Girshel.
The whole night long I could not sleep a wink.
The next night we were sitting in the tent of our captain; I was playing, but with no great zest. My orderly came in.
‘Some one’s asking for you, your honour.’
‘Who is it?’
‘A Jew.’
‘Can it be Girshel?’ I wondered. I waited till the end of the rubber, got up and went out. Yes, it was so; I saw Girshel.
‘Well,’ he questioned me with an ingratiating smile, ‘your honour, are you satisfied?’
‘Ah, you——!’ (Here the colonel glanced round. ‘No ladies present, I believe…. Well, never mind, any way.’) ‘Ah, bless you!’ I responded, ‘so you’re making fun of me, are you?’
‘How so?’
‘How so, indeed! What a question!’
‘Ay, ay, your honour, you ‘re too bad,’ Girshel said reproachfully, but never ceasing smiling. ‘The girl is young and modest…. You frightened her, indeed, you did.’