loud and sometimes they scarcely whisper. Easter eve was at hand. This was the time set by George for fulfillment of his threat.
“Now, of course, he is safely in prison somewhere,” said Leiba, reassuringly.
However, it may be, Zibal will have to remain in Podeni until the next quarter is over. Then with his money he will move to Jassy and open a nice little business, on the Market square—then Leiba will have good health again and not shake with fever. He will be right beside police headquarters. He will give tips liberally to all the policemen—to the inspector of police— Who pays well, is safe.
On a great market square like the one in Jassy, night is noisy, and just as light as day. No darkness there—no silence either. Never such deep silence as in this lonely valley of Podeni, between the black hills and the great speechless water. In Jassy there is a rest-house—right in an angular building on the corner—which is the finest place in the world for a rest-house. There, all night long girls dance and sing in a Café chantant. What noise they make! What merry life! There any hour of the day or night you can look out your
