Satan in Goray

have thought the town had been doomed to a sudden alteration that had to be completed before the rising of the morning star.
    That night Rabbi Benish lay down to sleep later than usual on the bench bed in his study. In his white trousers and prayer vest he lay, resting on three feather-soft pillows, and covered with a comforter. Nevertheless, he could not fall asleep. A whistling and a howling rose from the hearth, and now and then in the stagnant air a sigh as of a soul in torment. The rafter, piled high with ancient holy volumes no longer fit for use, shuddered, and dull thuds were heard from above, as though someone were moving heavy things about. Though the clay oven was stoked, and the windows shut and sealed with braided straw, a cold gust blew through the air, chilling Rabbi Benish's old limbs.
    Rabbi Benish attempted to concentrate on Torah as he usually did when sleep had deserted him. But tonight his thoughts ran too rapidly, crowded close on one another, tangled. He pressed his eyelids down over his eyes, but they opened again of their own ac-cord. Half awake and half asleep, his ears caught the sound of speech that seemed to be issuing from many mouths. Several voices were debating stubbornly and hotly. It was the same old everlasting wrangling about Sabbatai Zevi and the end of days that had been running ceaselessly through his mind. Suddenly he started, so violently that his bench bed moved with him. The voices ceased. In their place there came a rapping at the rabbi's shutter. He shook himself awake, sat up, and trembling with fear asked: "Who's there?"
    "It is me, Rabbi. Forgive me."
    "Who are you?"
    "Grunam."
    Rabbi Benish sensed bad news, and his skin prick-led. After a brief silence he replied, "Just a moment!"
    The rabbi crawled out of bed, groped for his slippers in the dark, and pulled his robe around him. Then he went to the door. In his confusion he knocked his head so hard against the top of the door-post that a lump immediately rose on his forehead. Blindly, his hand trembling, he lifted the chain, drew the bolt, and turned the key twice in the keyhole. Grunam burst into the room, bringing the cold with him, breathing as though someone had been pursuing him.
    "Rabbi," he gasped, "a thousand pardons! A whole crowd of men and women have gathered together! At Reb Eleazar Babad's, on the upper floor! Men dancing with women. Profanations!"
    Rabbi Benish could not believe his ears. Had things gone this far in Goray? Without delay and silently he began to dress. In the darkness he found his trousers, put his fur coat over them, and even located his broad sash. Several times chairs fell; Rabbi Benish stumbled against the table edge and hurt himself. His legs were unusually torpid; a tremor crossed his back, stabbing icily at his spine. For the first time in many years Rabbi Benish fell into a fit of coughing. Old Grunam's eyes shone like those of a cat.
    "Rabbi, forgive me," he began again.
    "Come," Rabbi Benish almost shouted. "Quick!"
    Weak-kneed, Rabbi Benish pulled up his collar. He expected darkness outside, but it was bright as twilight. An icy wind immediately gripped him and took his breath away. Thin needles of snow or rain--it was impossible to tell which--began to sting his face, which immediately swelled. His forehead and eyelids stiffened and became bloated. Rabbi Benish looked about him, as though unable to recognize the town, and wanted to take Grunam's hand, so as not to slip and fall. But all at once a great hoarse wind rushed upon him, thrusting him back several steps, and began to drive him downhill from behind. His fur hat, torn from his head, flew high in the air like a black bird, crookedly plunged to the earth, and began to roll madly straight toward the well. Rabbi Benish seized hold of his skull cap with both hands, and the ground wavered beneath him.
    "Grunam!" Rabbi Benish shouted, in a stranger's voice.
    Later, Rabbi Benish did not know himself how it had all happened. Grunam began to run after the sable hat, racing down the steep incline; then, as though attempting to cover the hat with his body, fell and rose to fall again. He rolled down the hill and all at once disappeared entirely, as though carried off. Casting a terrified glance over his shoulder, Rabbi Benish realized that evil was abroad and tried to re-turn to his house. But at that moment his eyes were filled as with sand. The skull cap fell from his head, the tails of his coat billowed, and began to drag him