And the Rebbe of Nemirov, every Friday morning early at Sliches-time, disappeared, melted into thin air! He was not to be found anywhere, either in the synagogue or in the two houses-of-study, or worshipping in some Minyan, and most certainly not at home. His door stood open, people went in and out as they pleased--no one ever stole anything from the Rebbe--but there was not a soul in the house. Where can the Rebbe be? Where _should_ he be, if not in heaven? Is it likely a Rebbe should have no affairs on hand with the Solemn Days so near? Jews (no evil eye!) need a livelihood, peace, health, successful match-makings, they wish to be good and pious and their sins are great, and Satan with his thousand eyes spies out the world from one end to the other, and he sees, and accuses, and tells tales--and who shall help if not the Rebbe? So thought the people. Once, however, there came a Lithuanian--and he laughed! You know the Lithuanian Jews--they rather despise books of devotion, but stuff themselves with the Talmud and the codes. Well, the Lithuanian points out a special bit of the Gemoreh--and hopes it is plain enough: even Moses our Teacher could not ascend into heaven, but remained suspended thirty inches below it--and who, I ask you, is going to argue with a Lithuanian? What becomes of the Rebbe? "I don't know, and I don't care," says he, shrugging his shoulders, and all the while (what it is to be a Lithuanian!) determined to find out. * * * * * The very same evening, soon after prayers, the Lithuanian steals into the Rebbe's room, lays himself down under the Rebbe's bed, and lies low. He intends to stay there all night to find out where the Rebbe goes, and what he does at Sliches-time. Another in his place would have dozed and slept the time away. Not so a Lithuanian--he learned a whole treatise of the Talmud by heart! Day has not broken when he hears the call to prayer. The Rebbe has been awake some time. The Lithuanian has heard him sighing and groaning for a whole hour. Whoever has heard the groaning of the Nemirover Rebbe knows what sorrow for All-Israel, what distress of mind, found voice in every groan. The soul that heard was dissolved in grief. But the heart of a Lithuanian is of cast-iron. The Lithuanian hears and lies still. The Rebbe lies still, too--the Rebbe, long life to him, _upon_ the bed and the Lithuanian _under_ the bed! * * * * * After that the Lithuanian hears the beds in the house squeak--the people jump out of them--a Jewish word is spoken now and again--water is poured on the fingers--a door is opened here and there. Then the people leave the house, once more it is quiet and dark, only a very little moonlight comes in through the shutter.