After waiting for him nearly an hour I went to a neighboring restaurant for breakfast. On returning I found that he had not yet come back. Alarmed at his continued absence I went at once to Hester's apartments, scarcely expecting, however, to find him there, but confident that she would be able to tell me where he was likely to go.
"No doubt he has gone on some good errand," she said. "Has he not told you of his charitable enterprises?"
"He told me last night how they had reduced his fortune."
"Poor fellow!" she continued. "In his zeal for others he quite forgot his own needs. I would have told you about it, but that he implored me to spare you any knowledge of his condition. I think we shall be able to find him. Let us go and try."
Hester and I set out at once, walking rapidly against a biting east wind toward the river. On reaching Second Avenue we took a car and rode down among the big tenements towering into the sky on all sides in the lower part of the city. Alighting in the midst of these human hives, we made our way through a wretched crowd, shivering in the livery of destitution, down a long and narrow alley. Entering one of the doorways we climbed a steep flight of stairs, above which was a squalid throng pressing about an open door on the landing. The women held children in their arms, and many of them were crying bitterly. The men stood in silence peering curiously over the heads of the further throng into the crowded chamber. Some of them greeted Hester with great respect, and moved aside that we might have room to enter. As we neared the door I could hear a babel of strange tongues and the voices of women calling down the blessings of Heaven upon some one in their midst. It was Rayel. He stood in a corner of the room holding two little children in his arms, and the crowd was pressing forward as if eager to speak with him.
He was talking in a low voice to those nearest him, but I was unable to catch his words. There were men and women of many nationalities in the throng. I saw Italians, Celts, Poles, Germans and even men whose swarthy faces and peculiar garb betokened Syrian origin. When we pressed nearer to Rayel I saw some, as they came within reach, extend their hands and touch him fondly, uttering exclamations as they did so, often in a tongue that was strange to me. These simple-minded people seemed to regard him as a supernatural being whom it was good to talk with, and whose touch it was a blessing to feel. A look of love and gentleness and sympathy irradiated his face and invited their confidence.