The King gave a signal. The choruses grew silent. The people on the shore, like scattered blossoms, glanced silently at that red and at the ships, disappearing in the distance.
And beyond that red, on the surface of the broad sea, the chorus of the departing sages began to sing the Psalm—
The Lunatic
He was known in the whole town as "the Lunatic": no one knew his real name. His appearance on the Market Place was a signal for the old women at the tables to take their stand in front of them to defend their wares. For when hunger pressed him hard he would unceremoniously help himself. If nothing was said he would satisfy himself with a couple of rolls and an apple; but if opposition was offered, then his dull, gray watery eyes would light up with a peculiar fire and he would upset the tables, scatter the cakes and fruit, and run off amid the cries of the scolding women.
In the summer he was a conspicuous character in the streets of the town. He was tall, thin, with deep set gray eyes, a large head of unkempt sandy hair, and an un- shaven face. His clothing was old and tattered, exposing in many places his bare body. He wore a long yellow overcoat both winter and summer. His toes peeped out from his torn shoes. His voice was hoarse, his shriek terrifying, and his moan pitiful. But he was a harmlese lunatic. Ail he did was to wander about the cemetery daily, rain or shine, and sadly scan the inscriptions on the numerous tombstones. When he found the name Leah on any of them, he would lie down on the ground beside it and moan and sob for hours. Several times he was found early in the morning asleep on a grave. EEE _
During the cold winter months he would
spend a great part of the day in the Beth-Hamidrash. There he could be seen crouching in a corner on a bench behind the well-heated stove, either looking into space with a vacant stare, or else whittling away at a piece of wood with an old rusty knife. Thus he would sit for a long while and then with a sudden start rush out of the place.
His most dreaded enemies were the street urchins. Particularly did he fear them in summer when they swarmed the streets. When they recognised him in the distance by his yellow coat, they would pursue him with jeers and shouts of “Here he is! the Lunatic ! Lunatic !” and they would pelt him with stones, pieces of wood, and rotten apples. At the sight of them he would start off at full speed, stopping every now and then just long enough to pick up and throw a missile, and to cast furtive glances over his shoulders. It was a pity to see the poor creature trying to evade danger, turning around every moment with eyes expressing terror, and defending his head with his arm or his coat-lapel. Once out of the town limits, he felt secure; for the children never pursued him that far. There he would sit down upon the grass, wipe his perspiring brow with his coat-sleeve, take out whatever food he had in his pockets, and share it with the birds. He was passionately fond of birds; for “birds,” said he, “don’t throw stones at me, but sing to me and soothe my aching heart.” After musing away for some time he would go to the cemetery for a few hours, as usual, and then return to the Beth-Hamidrash.
Sometimes he was seen sitting on a door-- step, absorbed in thought, with glistening tears rolling down his haggard face. People: said those were the moments when his mind was normal and he was like one of us. If in one of those sane moments a slice of bread or a bowl of soup was offered him, he gladly accepted it. But these moments were rare OccurTences.
One day he saw a funeral procession going through the streets. He inquired of the bystanders who it was that had died; he was told that a beautiful girl who was to be married that very night had died the day