Then he was shown a dream. He dreamed that the Brisk Rabbi came in to him and said: "Come, Nòach, I will take you into the terrestrial Garden of Eden." And he took his hand and led him away thither. They came into a great palace. There were no doors and no windows in this palace, except for the door by which they came in. And yet it was light, for the walls, as it seemed to the Rebbe, were of crystal and gave out a glittering shine. And so they went on, further and further, and one saw no end to it. "Hold on to my skirt," said the Brisk Rabbi, "there are halls without doors and without number, and if you let go of me, you will be lost forever." The Rebbe obeyed, and they went further and further, and the whole way he saw no bench, no chair, no kind of furniture, nothing at all! "There is no resting here," explained the Brisk Rabbi, "one goes on and on!" And he followed, and every hall was longer and brighter than the last, and the walls shone now with this color and now with that, here with several, and there with all colors--but they did not meet with a single human being on their way. The Rebbe grew weary walking. He was covered with perspiration, a cold perspiration. He grew cold in every limb, beside which his eyes began to hurt him, from the continual brilliancy. And there came over him a great longing, a longing after Jews, after companions, after All-Israel. It was no trifle, not meeting a single soul. "Long after no one," said the Brisk Rabbi, "this is a palace for me and for you--you will also, some day, be Rabbi of Brisk." And the other was more terrified than ever, and laid his hand against the wall to help himself from falling. And the wall burnt him. Only not as fire burns, but as ice burns. "Rabbi!" he gave a cry, "the walls are ice, simply ice!" The Brisk Rabbi was silent. And the other cried again: "Rabbi, take me away hence! I do not wish to stay alone with you! I wish to be with All-Israel!" And hardly had he said it when the Brisk Rabbi disappeared, and he was left alone in the palace. He knew of no way, no in and no out; a cold terror struck him from the walls; and the longing for a Jew, to see a Jew, if only a cobbler or a tailor, waxed stronger and stronger. He began to weep. "Lord of the world," he begged, "take me away from here. Better in Gehenna with All-Israel than here one by himself!" And immediately there appeared before him a common Jew with the red sash of a driver round him, and a long whip in his hand. The Jew took him silently by the sleeve, led him out of the palace--and vanished. Such was the dream that was sent him.