One of the two worthy but extremely dirty old men--so dirty that one looked at them in wonder--had a very red nose--a circumstance from which one might infer that he was subject to constant thirst, and was of a cheerful disposition. It is always easy to make one's self understood by a person of that kind. I looked at the man smilingly, as though he were an old friend, and at the same time put my hand in my pocket.... "Well--who is it?" I asked. He watched my movements with visible interest, but did not give way as yet. "Isn't the name engraved upon the stone?" he inquired. "I should not have asked you what it was if it had been there." "Why isn't it there?" My hand came out of my pocket, but the old man was not yet gained over. "Why?" he repeated; "because it is a sin even to think of the name of her who lies there! Why should I sin by telling you what it is? why should you sin by listening to it? why should Reb Nathan here sin by listening to us both?" "Money spent on the poor will wash out the sin," I replied calmly, pressing something into the old man's hand. But the venerable gentleman was evidently very particular about any matter that might affect the salvation of his soul, so he counted the silver I had given him in a whisper, as if to make sure that I had given him enough. His face now expressed satisfaction; but Reb Nathan, in his turn, began to feel uneasy. He might easily have gone away, and so escaped the sin of listening; but instead of that, he chose another course of action, although he had not a red nose. When these preliminaries were all settled, the first said, "Whose grave is that?" and the other answered, "Lea Rendar's." Which, being interpreted, means, "Lea, the daughter of the innkeeper, lies there." But I still looked inquiringly at the two men. "Every one knew her!" they exclaimed, in astonishment. "Lea of the yellow Karezma (inn); the wife of Long Ruben, who lives near the town-hall; Lea with the long hair." I knew now whom they meant, and my curiosity was turned into an anxious interest. "What! she was a sinner?" I cried, in amazement. "Was she a sinner?" exclaimed Reb Abraham, the red-nosed man. "Could there have been a greater than she? No: there never was a greater! She trod the law under her feet! And who will be damned for it? She and her husband--Ruben of the town-hall! For had he not permitted it, the transgression had never been perpetrated." "Another person will also be damned for her sin," cried Reb Nathan--"Gawriel Rendar, her father; for if he had brought her up differently, she would never have committed such a trespass against the law."