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filled our nostrils with the warm, rich scents; then we burned them so that their perfume would spread throughout the house to comfort us for the departure of the Sabbath.
    Next my grandfather lit the lamps and blessed the light. We all looked at the light through our nails and fingers. This is usually the moment when we all look at one another, relishing the pleasure of being all together and in good health. My grandfather taught us that on the evening of the first Sabbath, Adam had been terrified of the darkness. Then the Lord sent him two stones and inspired him to rub them together until sparks flew. From these sparks fire was born, and that is how Adam discovered light. “It is the light that we bless, not the lamps,” says my grandfather. “And the best way to bless light is by watching it illuminate the faces of those we love.” But yesterday there was no joy in our faces, even though Samuel and Yom Tov had come back to us safe and sound!
    We ate, and then everyone went to bed. Zipporah unfolded a bed for the boys in the downstairs room. They were too tired to go back to the dormitory. My father went up to his room without saying a word. He didn’t even wish us good night.
    First Letter to the Mazal
    My Dear Mazal,
    My heart is heavy and my head is full of trouble, and the night has brought me no relief.
    My father left as soon as Simcha, the
shamash,
knocked on the shutters. Zipporah went down to give the boys their meal. I went down, too, but I wasn’t hungry. I grabbed a torch, lit it with embers from the oven, and came back upstairs to hide in my room. I couldn’t possibly write you in front of the others.
    My dear Mazal, I want to tell you what is on my mind. It isn’t only that I have once again displeased my father. There’s something else, too. Last night, I saw my father, Judah ben Nathan, worn and tired. I saw him biting his lip to keep back his words. He was displeased, but he had to hold his peace out of respect for my grandfather, Solomon ben Isaac. And it was all my fault that my father was humiliated. For once, I regretted that Solomon ben Isaac didn’t pour out his wrath on me, as the Bible puts it. Can you understand that, Mazal? Do you see why I woke up with such a heavy weight on my heart?

XII
    Turiel is sick!” The servant standing outside the door is wrapped in a cape with the hood pulled tightly over her face. Elvina can only make out one anxious-looking eye and the tip of a nose, red with cold.
    â€œMuriel is sick!” the servant repeats.
    â€œDon’t tell me she is sick,” says Elvina. “Tell me she’s well.”
    â€œIf she were well, do you think my mistress would have sent me out to fetch you, in the dark and in weather that even dogs avoid?”
    Elvina pulls the servant inside by the arm and shuts the door. “Warm yourself up. And tell me, what’s wrong with Muriel! But don’t shout. It’s not the sort of thing you yell from the rooftops.”
    The servant looks around her anxiously. “You mean that it might attract —”
    Elvina finishes her sentence: “— attention. Now, tell me about Muriel.”
    â€œShe’s coughing and she has a fever. She was shivering all night. The mistress sent me to get you as soon as day broke or, rather, as soon as we heard the
shamash
knocking on the shutters, because it’s not exactly daylight out there. . . . I followed his torchlight, and he wasn’t in any hurry. It isn’t enough for him to knock on the shutters to wake people up. He stops to chat, first with this one and then with that one. . . . I thought I would die of cold. But it’s better to die of cold than of fright!” The servant stretches out her hands toward the fire.
    At the table, Yom Tov and Samuel are finishing their meal. Three days have gone by since the Sabbath, but they have still not completely recovered from