550 BEEKOWITZ
now as if that would not count: God would certainly remember the spilling of Anishka's blood.
Feivke's second hidden transgression had been com- mitted outside the village, among the graves of the peasants. A whole troop of boys, Feivke in their midst, had gone pigeon hunting, aiming at the pigeons with stones, and a stone of Feivke's had hit the naked fig- ure on the cross that stood among the graves. The Gentile boys had started and taken fright, and those among them who were Feivke's good friends told him he had actually hit the son of God, and that the thing would have consequences; it was one for which people had their heads cut off.
These two great transgressions now stood before him, and his heart warned him that the hour had come when he would be called to account for what he had done to Anishka and to God's son. Only he did not know what answer he could make.
By the time they came near the windmill belonging to the large strange village, the sun had begun to set. The village river with the trees beside it were visible a long way off, and, crossing the river, a long high bridge.
"The Minyan is there," and Mattes pointed his finger at the thatched roofs shining in the sunset.
Feivke looked down from the bridge into the deep, black water that lay smooth and still in the shadow of the trees. The bridge was high and the water deep ! Feivke felt sick at heart, and his mouth was dry.
"But, Tate, I won't be able to answer," he let out in despair.
