Tarass shut the door, and looked through the window into the dirty Jewish lane. The three Jews stopped in the very middle of the street, and began talking with great vehemence. They were soon joined by a fourth, then by a fifth. Tarass heard them again repeat "Mardokhaï! Mardokhaï!" The Jews every moment looked towards one end of the street; at last there was seen emerging from a decayed house a foot in a Jewish slipper; then came fluttering the skirts of a coat. "Ah, Mardokhaï, Mardokhaï!" A thin Jew, a little shorter than Yankel, but with many more wrinkles on his face, with an enormous upper lip, came near the impatient group; and every one of the Jews hastened to give him information. During the narrative, Mardokhaï looked repeatedly up towards the small window, and Tarass guessed that they were speaking about him. Mardokhaï waved his hands in the most violent manner, listened to what others said, stopped them in their speech, frequently spat aside, and lifting up the skirts of his long coat, thrust his hand into his pocket, and produced from it some rubbish, in doing which he exposed to view his disgustingly dirty trowsers. At last, all the Jews got to screaming so loudly that the Jew who stood on the watch had to give them repeated signals to be quieter, and Tarass began to fear for his safety; but he was soon tranquillised by the thought that Jews can nowhere hold their discourse but in the open street, and that the Devil himself could not understand their gibberish. About two minutes later all the Jews came up together into his room. Mardokhaï approached Tarass, gently slapped him on the shoulder, and said, "If we are willing to do a thing, well then, that thing shall be done as we wish it to be done." Tarass looked at the Solomon, the like of whom had never yet been in the world, and felt some hope. In fact, the appearance of the Jew was calculated to inspire confidence. His upper lip was of frightful dimensions, there could be no doubt that its thickness had been increased by particular reasons. The Solomon's beard boasted no more than some fifteen hairs, and those were on the left side only. The Solomon's features bore such numerous traces of blows received for his tricks, that he certainly had long ceased counting them, and had grown accustomed to take them for moles.