People began to murmur and shake their heads. Many were looking in Krystal’s direction, though Krystal himself was looking at a cloud, or a bird, or perhaps just the sky. “It’s him!” somebody shouted, pointing out the boy, whose raincoat button had come undone.

“Yes,” responded some others, “that one there!”

At that moment the whole crowd heard a sweet voice singing a Polish song.

“Listen!” cried the man in the gray suit, still sitting on the edge of the platform. “A sound like an angel!”

A boy picking flowers skipped over the stage. He had blond hair, red cheeks, eyes that were blue. Instantly the Jews on the wagon hid themselves behind the gravestones. The child wandered toward them, still singing his song.

“Warn him! Help him! They must not catch him!” The slick-haired man cried those words.

From the crowd: “No! no!”

“Stay back!”

“Run from there!”

It was too late. The play continued.

Boy dances into shadows. At once the Jews seize him. The child utters a cry, but one of the Elders silences him, saying, “Now the snake will arise!” Others remove his clothes and lift him to the top of the largest tombstone. A Jew fetches instruments: a knife, a needle, pliers, and a golden basin. Two hold the arms of the naked boy while confederates pierce him. The blood, as from a bladder, spills out. A Jew collects the outpouring eagerly in the golden basin. Boy dies. The Hebrews make passionate action, some dancing, some in vigorous prayer.

“Alas!” cried the man. “Did you hear? Did you see? Who will avenge him?”

For a moment the crowd stood stunned, motionless. Then everyone shouted at once.

“We will!”

“We’ll fix them for good!”

The spectators surged forward, so that Krystal and Lifshits disappeared among them. The Poles were straining against the edge of the stage, pounding upon it. Suddenly they staggered back. They fell against each other with a sigh.

On the stage the contents of the golden basin were poured into the open grave. Immediately smoke and flames issued from the pit. Then the Jews reached inside and pulled out, by its head and its tail, a live green serpent.

The smoke from the wagon spread over the crowd. People began to shout, to scream. All four horses reared upward. One frantic stallion broke from its traces and galloped away. The Elders lifted the reptile over their heads, above their top hats and skullcaps, their black ringlets of hair. The snake extended its tongue from its narrow head.

“Satan! Satan!” everyone cried.

Watching the pageant were a score of Jews. You could see where they stood by the little space, like magic circles, that grew around them. But the Poles did not dare touch them. They thought the Hebrews had some awful power.

The man in the gray suit, nearly lipless, called out, “Do not be frightened! Stay calm! Listen!”

Just then the bells from the church on the square began to peal. Out of the roof of the wagon, which was supposed to be Heaven, a cloud descended with soldiers on it, the Others, the Lords and Masters. They shot bullets from their guns and the Elders of Zion fell into the pit. Then the top part of the wall shut up and the bottom third of the wagon opened. You could see that the Jews had fallen into the mouth of hell. There were flames there, real flames, among which the Jews danced, calling out, Woe! Woe! They beat at their clothes; they beat at the air.