“That thief!”

“Yes! A pity he gets away with all of this.”

“But how do you know so much about my father?”

“I know about everything that takes place in these parts. It’s part of my… specialty.” Sylvester shrugged with a dramatic sigh.

“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Sylvester said. “Have a good day.”

“Wait, that’s it? Claude just gets away with this?” Shimshon demanded.

“Not much we can do, is there? It pains me, too, the utter injustice of it all. But alas, short of sneaking into his home and stealing the jewels back, there’s not much anyone can do.”

Shimshon thought for a moment. “They’re in his castle?”

“In the tower, yes.”

“I can climb well. And I’m fast.”

“You’re not suggesting that—” Sylvester trailed off, his eyes wide.

“I’ll get the jewels back. I must. Why should that evil man get away with this? My mother struggles to bring home a piece of bread every day, while our family savings sits inside his castle?”

“Well, I suppose it can be done. But it’s risky.” Sylvester bit on his lower lip as he thought. “I can help create a distraction with my dogs, and you can scamper up the tower with those nimble legs of yours and get the jewels back! Your father would approve. It’s the least you can do to get back at Claude, that greedy murderer.”

“Why are you helping me, Sylvester?”

“Because I have a big heart. We can’t bring your father back from the dead, but why should you not possess the jewels that are rightfully yours?”

“When should we do this?”

“Why delay? Tonight!”

When night fell, Shimshon left his home through the open window and expertly made his way down the mountain on his horse. He met Sylvester in their prearranged spot, just a short distance from Claude’s enormous castle.

“Shimshon, there’s something I wanted to tell you. I forgot to mention it back in the carriage.”

“Yes?”

“When you get into the tower, there should be a bundle of documents inside a tattered burlap sack, inside the chest with the rest of Claude’s treasures. Bring me that burlap sack. It belongs to me.”

“Claude also stole from you?”

“Yes. He’s a murderer and a thief. Those documents don’t have any value to the average person, but they are of significant historical value for those who appreciate history.”

“Okay, I’ll bring them to you.”

“Thank you, dear boy. But there’s one stipulation… don’t look inside the sack.”

“Why?”

“The documents are extremely old and exposing them to the air could damage them. They have to be treated very cautiously, and only I know how to handle them. You must give me your word that you won’t look inside, not even for a tiny peek.”

“Okay.”

At Sylvester’s signal, a soft whistle, his attack dogs began charging at the main castle entrance, startling the guards and causing an uproar. As more guards ran to deal with the disturbance, Shimshon began climbing the castle walls, a dark shadow almost completely camouflaged against the black stones.

Finally, when he was at the highest window, he dropped inside the room, nimble as a cat. He found the chest quickly, just as Sylvester had described. He put the jewels into a bag he’d brought with him, then carefully picked up the plain burlap sack Sylvester wanted.

He leaped to the window, and expertly climbed down, disappearing into the night. Back up the mountain he fled, not pausing for a moment until he was inside his room, sitting on his bed with his goods. His heart beat wildly as he examined the jewels carefully. He was elated, but the thought of Claude tormenting his father brought waves of anger and sadness over him.

He rolled over and looked at the burlap sack. Curiosity burned inside of him. And there was a good measure of caution now drumming inside his head. What had he taken? Sylvester would never know if he took just a quick peek.

He opened the sack and seven yellowed, cracked, and aged parchments tumbled out. He immediately recognized the origin of these ancient scrolls. And he knew then that Sylvester had tricked him….

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 959)