sat a shabbily dressed individual, his well-formed neck bare, a dented derby on his head. His hair was jet-black and reached almost to his shoulders. His face was framed in a short fluffy black beard. His features were striking for their regularity and beauty, especially his eyes which were large and shone brilliantly but mournfully.
"You let 'im alone Blinky, d'ye hear?" shouted Reuby to one of the urchins who was tickling the strange individual with a twig from behind.
Davy made his way through the crowd.
He stood a moment in awe before the solemn-faced stranger.
"What's your name?" he finally asked.
"Moshe Moshiach!" came the reply in a deep voice.
Little Davy stepped back as though frightened and at sight of him the others stopped their clamor.
“Listen, ye Heavens, and I will speak and let the Earth hearken to the words of my mouth,” began the stranger, speaking loud and fast and gesticulating. “How long will the people pine in exile and the Children of Men be steeped in iniquity? The Heavens cry aloud for help and the earth moans in her misery. Why does the Czar drink blood and his ministers eat human flesh! Lo. I have come to lead you away; I will build a bridge for your feet and a shelter for your head, and the land shall flow with milk and honey. I will put the trumpet to my lips and the deaf shall hear me; for know you who I am? Moshe Moshiach is mv name!”
Aa Br a at Be u As the man spoke his aspect became almost terrifying. His eyes flashed, his nostrils trembled, his face became transfigured. Little Davy was spellbound. He understood little of what the man said, but he understood enough.
"Reuby" he whispered to his friend, "Did yer hear him, Reuby. He says he's Moshiach!"
"Ye—es," came faintly from Reuby.
Then Davy ventured, almost in a whisper:
"Where do you come from, Moshe Moshiach?"
But the man now looked sternly on the ground and made no reply.
"What are you doing here?" Davy again inquired. But the man remained silent. Then, after a pause he began solemnly:
"The birds fly to their nests in the trees, and the fishes swim to the clefts of the rocks. Where are the ravens that fed the prophet Elijah? They've become vultures, and now they devour his flesh. But I will seize them and slay them, they shall die at the sound of my trumpet. For the fat are greedy for food and my people are lean."
"Davy" whispered Reuby, "I think he says he's hungry. Let's take him away and get him something to eat."
"Come with us," said Davy "if you are hungry."
And the man rose and took Davy’s hand.
"Let us go," said he. "It is time."
And the group of urchins, vaguely impressed and puzzled, looked after the tall straight figure receding with slow dignified steps, flanked by Reuby on one side and bv little Davy on the other.
III
Into a narrow back-yard, cramped in by the high walls of the tenements, Davy and Reuby conducted their guest; for could they risk the wrath of unsentimental mothers by introducing him into the house? Reverently Davy invited him to sit on an upturned soap-box, while Reuby ran off to fetch food.
Soon Reuby returned with the food, consisting of half a loaf of black bread and some onions, which Reuby had to snatch away stealthily. The guest fell upon it with marvellous avidity, swallowing great mouthfuls without seeming to do any chewing at all. And while he ate the two hosts held a whispered consultation.
"Reuby," declared Davy breathlessly, "he looks just like little Rebi said."
"Yes an' he knows all about the milk an' honey," confided Reuby.
"And he ain’t no crazy,” continued Davy.
"No, he's only hungry," agreed Reuby, "but what'll we do with him, Davy?"
Little Davy seemed worried.
"I tell you," said he, after thinking a moment, "first we'll tell little Rebi all about it. He'll tell us what to do. An' you know what, we'll let little Rebi see him and talk to him. And then we'll know for sure."
"Right you are Davy. We'll take him over as soon as he's through eatin'."
"No, no Reuby. We mus'n't take 'im to Rebi's house. I am afraid of the Rebi's wife. She might holler fierce about it. I'll bring little Rebi to see him."
"Where? in the yard? wid all the wimmen looking on?"
“No Reuby, not in the yard. On the dock, to-night, that's where. I tell you: you take care of him there— while; I'll go and tell Rebi. An’ to-night, when its dark you bring him on the dock. Little Rebi an’ I’ll wait for you. Then we’ll know for sure.”
"Look how 'e eats, Davy; I wisht I had to give him some honey instead of black bread and onions."
"He looks just like a picture of King David I seen in a story-book, Reuby."
"An' he kin speech somethin' great, eh, Davy?"
"An' he looks also like the Lost Prince in the Violet Fairy Book."
"Ask 'im about the bridge, Davy, an' about the horn."
"No, no, let's leave 'im alone. Little Rebi'll ask 'im all about that."
"I think I better bring 'im some more bread, Davy."
And Reuby disappeared and soon returned with more bread and onions.
“Now Reuby, you stay here wid him an’ Tl go an tell little Rebi.’” _
IV
The blue of the twilight sky and the green of the river were growing deeper and the bands of light, broken and trembling lengthened on the face of the water. In the west, between the chimney-stacks of the flour mill, one large white star was growing more and more luminous with the fading of the sunset glow.
The bustle of work had long ceased on the wharf where stood waiting Davy and his Rebi, a remarkably thin little man, the expression on his face like that of a happy child.
"Oh Rebbele," murmured Davy, clasping the little man's arm, "soon you will see him. He looks like a young king, tall and strong, with his eyes shinin' and his hair black and long."
"Yes, Davele, but you must be calm. Remember, I promised to come with you only on condition that you calm yourself. Heavens, how excited you were!"
"But you oughta hear 'im speech, Rebele! He makes with 'is hands; an' his eyes, oh my! they just stick you through."