But he showed no shame.Never did their answers satisfy him.
He would turn back to his pillar with a sigh.
Thus weeks went on, and Israel's face grew worn and tired.
His fellow prisoners began to show him deference in their own rude way.
When he came among them at the first they had grinned and laughed a little.To do that was always the impulse of the poor souls, so miserably imprisoned, when a new comrade joined him.
But the majesty and the suffering in Israel's face told on their hearts at last.He was a great man fallen, he had nothing left to him;not even bread to eat or water to drink.So they gathered about him and hit on a way to make him share their food.Bringing their sacks to his pillar, they stacked them about it, and asked him to serve out provisions to all, day by day, share and share alike.He was honest, he was a master, no one would steal from him, it was best, the stuff would last longest.It was a touching sight.
Still the old eagerness betrayed itself in Israel's weary manner as often as the door opened and fresh prisoners arrived.
Once it happened that before he uttered his usual question he saw that the newcomers were from Tetuan, and then his restlessness was feverish."When--were you--have you been of late--" he stammered, and seemed unable to go farther.
But the Tetawanis knew and understood him."No," said one in answer to the unspoken question; "Nor I," said another; "Nor I," said a third, "Nor I neither," said a fourth, as Israel's rapid eyes passed down the line of them.