The Family Moskat Read Online Free PDF Page A

then transfer it to his iron safe at home. When the safe was full he would take the notes and currency to the bank, accompanied by Koppel. Several times the accusation had been made that his books were not kept in order and he had been required by the tax offices to make an accounting, but the accusations had come to nothing. Those who had happened to see Yechiel Stein's books reported that his handwriting was like fly tracks and that he needed a magnifying glass to read what he himself had written. Every time Reb Meshulam walked in on the bookkeeper he would boom: "Scribble away, Reb Yechiel! You're a wizard of a penman."
    The only one who knew about Meshulam's affairs was Koppel. He was known simply as "the bailiff." But he was more than that; he was the old man's adviser, confidant, and bodyguard. It was even whispered that Koppel, during his service with Reb Meshulam, had become rich on his own account and was now actually the old man's partner. Everthing surrounding Koppel had a secretive quality. He had a wife and children, but none of -15-the Moskat family had ever seen them. He lived in Praga, on the other side of the Vistula. He was fifty or thereabouts, but looked like a young man in his thirties, of middle height and lean, with a dark tanned face, curly hair, and wide-set flashing eyes. Summer and winter he wore a derby hat, pulled low over his forehead, and boots with high uppers. A pearl tie pin was stuck in his cravat. A cigarette always hung from the corner of his drooping mouth, and a pencil was stuck behind his left ear.
    He was clean-shaven. His features customarily wore a half-meek, half-contemptuous smile. Meshulam ordered him about like an errand boy. When the two walked together on the street, Koppel would linger a pace or two behind to avoid any implication that he considered himself the old man's equal. Whenever the two rode in Reb Meshulam's carriage, Koppel would sit with the coachman.
    If Meshulam addressed him in the presence of others, Koppel would incline his head deferentially. He would take his cigarette out of his mouth and keep his head lowered in a slight bow, the heels of his boots together, military style. He had been a soldier in the Czar's army and it was rumored that during his service he had been a general's orderly.
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    But all this was for outside appearance. The truth was, as everyone knew, that Meshulam did not commit himself to any course of action without consulting his bailiff. The two would often have long talks. The administrators of the houses he owned--his sons included--had to make their accountings to Koppel. People who came for favors knew that in the last resort they would have to depend on Koppel. For years the Moskat sons and daughters had been carrying on a campaign against him, but it was Koppel who had won out. In his quiet way he put his nose into everything: matches for the grandchildren, dowries, philanthropies, communal affairs, even Chassidic disputes. On one occasion when Koppel was sick Reb Meshulam went about in a daze. He hardly heard what was said to him, scolded everyone, stamped his foot, and took refuge in a single answer to all questions: "My bailiff isn't here. Come tomorrow."
    When Reb Meshulam made his yearly summer visit to the hot springs, Koppel went along with him, sharing his hotel quarters and taking the mineral waters that had been prescribed for the -16-old man. It was
    even said that when the doctors had ordered mud baths for Reb Meshulam, Koppel had soaked in the ooze with his employer. In Karlsbad they strolled together up and down the promenade--here Koppel, instead of lagging behind, walked by Reb Meshulam's side--and talked about business affairs, about the wasters who lost all they had in Monte Carlo, and about the Galician rabbis who were visiting Karlsbad with their elegantly dressed daughters and daughters-in-law. Gossiping tongues said that Reb Meshulam had signed over to Koppel a part of his fortune and had named him in his will