106
PARTISAN REVIEW
waistcoats and sweaters that either were too short or too long, they
were dirty, tattered. Some of them had no riding boots, their legs
were swaddled in puttee bands, mud-caked and slipshodly tied, and
only their armaments were in perfect condition.
Muted sounds filtered in from outside, again a woman's
shriek, the clatter of breaking crockery. A horse whinnied. Then
foot-steps crunched on the snow. In the rectangle outlined against
the darkness by the open door, two silhouettes loomed nearer, and
a man entered the room, striding towards the leader. For a minute
they conferred in undertones, laconically, in monosyllables, and
the other men stared at the table.
When they had finished speaking, the red haired man went to
the table and poured himself out a brimming glass of spirits, and
swallowed it in one gulp. He examined his glass through the
candlelight, clicked his tongue and poured himself out another
helping. Several times he repeated this ceremony, painstakingly,
methodically, each time contemplating the contents of the bottle
while his companions looked on, also gauging the level of the
liquid. When this had diminished half-way, he handed them the
bottle, together with his glass, and they helped themselves in turn,
each one drank rapidly, in one gulp, as if their whole bodies
rejoiced. And, loyal to the leader, they clicked their tongues.
The leader picked his revolver up from the table, pretended
to examine the trigger, said:
"Any good?"
"Good," the others replied shuffiing their feet.
In the same tones, he pursued:
"So, you bloated cur, you drink good vodka while we fight
against the bolsheviks? ... You dirty Jew, you are in league with
the bolsheviks, eh? ... Like all bloody sheenies, eh? ..."
He grasped Rabbi Mellakh's beard and roughly shook the old
man who looked at him with limpid eyes. Not one groan escaped
him. The women hurled themselves on the fellow's arm but roughly
he propelled them both to the floor. The others exulted loudly, in
merriment, prying eyes rivetted on the women's disordered skirts.
Forgetting pain and fear, I ran to help them to their feet. They
shuddered like birch leaves.
"1-must-have-ten- thousand- roubles-before- one -hours- time–
otherwise .. ·." the man chanted.
