KORNBLAT FOLLOWED THE conversation attentively, without letting go of his textbook. After some hesitation, he put the book aside and approached the table.
“Here’s what I have to say,” he began in a business-like manner. “There’s only one sure means to rescue her! It’s a difficult step, but if she agrees to it, she’ll immediately avoid this fellow, as well as any others. . . .”
“How?” his comrades inquired with interest.
“The simplest way of all. One has only to say a few words. . . .”
“Harey-at!” blurted out Uler, guessing the answer.1
“Precisely!” confirmed Kornblat in a tone indicating that he was surprised his comrades hadn’t come up with such an easy solution before. “One of us will drop into Beryashev’s shop with two comrades as witnesses when Sonya is present (this will have to be arranged with her in advance), purchase something from her, slip a silver coin into her hand, and say aloud ‘Harey-at,’ and it’s all done! Not even a Tatar could help!”2
The comrades were astounded at this unexpected proposal. Although the plan seemed certain, it was very daring and dangerous.
“It’ll create a huge uproar,” Faevich said hesitantly.
“Splendid!” cried Uler. “Why are you afraid of an uproar? Precisely! Let there be one! May old Beryashev and his entire khalyastre burst in their fury! I can imagine with delight their impotent rage!”
“But then Beryashev will take it out on Sonya very severely,” replied Mirkin.
“How will he know it was done with her consent?” Kornblat objected. “She can scream and even pretend to faint. . . .”
“Let’s suppose it’s not that easy to deceive the old man: he’ll guess that it couldn’t be done without her agreement,” replied Hillel. “There’s a fine means of protecting her against parental beatings: threaten baptism. . . . Such a risk would render even the most infuriated father docile. . . .”
“You know, friends, we might wind up in prison for arranging such a ‘betrothal.’ It’s a criminal act,” observed Faevich.
“If it’s prison, then so be it, if only we can manage to save a human being!” Tsiporin declared decisively. “I accept responsibility for carrying out this plan! I’m not afraid of prison!”
“I’m not afraid either, you fool!” Faevich said to him in irritation. You don’t understand what we’re talking about. . . .”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Hillel said, stopping them both. “Of course, the father will threaten both prison and punishment. But what can he gain from that? If that happens, Sonya won’t be granted a divorce.”
“If there’s no other way, then we must accept this plan,” Mirkin decided on behalf of everyone. “Of course, we’ll have to ask Sonya. . . .”
“Why ask her? She says in her letter she’ll agree to anything,” replied Uler.
“Still, we have to ask her!”
Hillel agreed that after supper at the Beryashevs’ that evening, he’d talk to Sonya and communicate her answer to his comrades the next morning.
“Who’ll accept the role of the intended?” asked Mirkin. “Of course, I can’t even go near the shop.”
“I will!” cried Tsiporin.
“Me!” replied Faevich after him.
“I’d take on the role of the intended,” said Kornblat, “but in the first place, I have no time, and in the second . . . why would I want a divorce after the betrothal? If Sonya were really to agree to marry me. . . .”
“You boor!” Tsiporin shouted at him in a rage.
“Perhaps I’d take on the role of the intended, but I really can’t!” replied Uler, looking around at everyone, his eyes shining. “I have my own reason. . . .”
“I know what it is!” guessed Faevich. “The ‘Ideal’? Right?”
“Yes!” Uler replied with a knowing look. “But no one must know about it,” he added in a whisper, forgetting that he’d already told each of his comrades his “secret.”
1. First words of the Hebrew formula of betrothal.
2. The Tatars or Mongols invaded Russia in 1223 and were finally defeated in 1480. The word “Tatar” became symbolic of fierce aggression and an unwelcome presence.