Chapter 6. The Flame of Retribution.

March 6, 1816

Dressed in a coarse but dry peasant's garment, twenty-four-year-old Jew Jacques Kershen felt for the first time in a long time the very feeling that some representatives of the human race often associate with a state of relative tranquility—it should be noted that the children of Jacques Kershen's glorious nation did not experience this kind of state very often, but when this feeling did settle in the depths of their souls, it was extraordinarily deep: continuously reproducing in his mind the painful memories of what price he had to pay to reach this Polish settlement, this dry garment, and this hospitable reception, dark-haired Jacques Kershen at the same time felt horror and joy—how many branches and swamps he had managed to overcome with his bare feet in such a cold season, how many people and animals he had managed to avoid on this thorny but truly human path.

Hurriedly bringing his hands, which were completely furrowed with thin scratches, closer to the huge yellow-faced bonfire, which was quite naturally located in the center of this small Polish settlement, Jacques Kershen in a single moment noticed that every gaze of every inhabitant, who was now like his being near the flame that gave warmth, and accordingly life, was directed with special tension straight into his soul, into his mind, into his mouth—each of these people with the greatest impatience wanted to hear one word or another from this young wanderer, who was the very embodiment of Ahasuerus within the limits of the earth's surface: it should be noted that none of the inhabitants of this settlement knew the secret of Jacques Kershen's true origin—perhaps it was this fact that allowed this twenty-four-year-old Jew to feel relatively safe for the first time in a long time, if such a thing is even possible in this world?

Be that as it may, instantly leaving the state of momentary exaltation, twenty-four-year-old Jacques Kershen, in whose eyes the perfectly healthy flame of that bonfire was now reflected in the depths of the evening twilight, cast his penetrating gaze over all those present in a single moment, and then, after thinking a little about the very ideas to which he intended to give a verbal form in the near future, he slowly began a very long speech in broken German:

"Pan Zbigniew Kaczmarczek, who so kindly gave me, a wanderer extremely exhausted by the trials of his own fate, a warm welcome, told me with the greatest sadness about the very misfortunes that continuously torment your small settlement—taking your troubles and your tragedy to heart, my soul is eager to provide you with any possible assistance in counteracting this disaster: I will tell you more, if we do not destroy these wolves, they will constantly, just by being near you, arouse a burning fear in your souls and hearts, and accordingly they will permanently control you, because a person is always controlled by the one who, to one degree or another, instills fear in him. And can an animal control a person in the real world? The mind of a true person calls for the opposite theses and maxims. We, people, are the highest link in the infinitely long chain of existing nature—and what, will we, people, be controlled by wolves? Will a pack of wolves, which lives quite willfully in this dense forest, a friendly neighbor to our settlement, rule the community of people with extreme self-will? Shall we, being reasonable people, submit to the will of a beast, the will of instinct, the will of natural laws? Look at yourselves, strong men! And you too, look at yourselves, brave women! Are we not stronger than these wolves? Individually, we are not able to defeat them, to drive them out of our area, but only by uniting, we will be able to pacify those whose will is subordinate to instincts. Each of us has certain thoughts, ideas, and feelings, as well as specific views on the real nature of things, however, given the real danger, we must make all our thoughts and feelings united, directed to the common good…"

Jacques Kershen said with exceptional inspiration, after which he mentally imagined how many of these people could obey his mind and his thoughts: being a relatively young, but already quite wise person with life experience, he perfectly understood that if he could control these people, he would at the same hour be able to control their property, and accordingly, having nothing, he would at the same moment own everything, because, having nothing at his own disposal… it is impossible to lose anything!… no one will steal something from you, no one will destroy something for you, if it is in the possession of other people, and accordingly, you do not have to worry about the safety of this "something".

After saying these words, Jacques Kershen, having involuntarily distinguished in the eyes of those listening to his speeches the very impulses that testified to a favorable soil in their minds for cultivating his own garden, this twenty-four-year-old Jew for the first time in a long time was able to fully feel the taste of true freedom—does it matter how exactly he acquired this state? With the help of truth or lies—does it matter? Expulsion from the city of Lübeck or a voluntary departure from its borders—does it cancel the result, which is the relative acquisition of relative freedom?

"These wolves took the life of my brother yesterday, and before that day—my uncle… How can we defeat those who are stronger than us? They have been living next to us in this forest for centuries, and we have been living in this settlement next to them for centuries. Our blood already flows in their blood, but their blood is not in our blood—we do not become closer to them and do not move away from them. We cannot get rid of their presence, for they are our destiny, our curse, and our burden! If we go against them—we will die!"—one of the inhabitants of that Polish settlement said very convincedly, not wanting at all to listen to the languid antinomies about counteracting the existing sharp-toothed evil.