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.
He turned away without a word more, sat down by the pillar and looked vacantly before him while the new prisoners told their story.