down, seized his hand and kissed it.

"Listen to me, Russian! I can never requite you this kindness. I do not
dare to wish for you that you may find yourself one day in my position
and chance upon a Turk as good as yourself. But know well there is only
one God. Religions are diverse, but God is One. I promise you that I and
my children, as long as we are alive, will pray God to preserve you for
your children as you have preserved me for mine. May the sun shine on
you for many years! Farewell, Russian, farewell!"

Then as though fearing that the Major might change his mind, he whipped
up his horse and disappeared.

After waiting some minutes to allow him to get to some distance, the
Major returned. When he arrived at the Russian outposts, he met the same
Cossack who had wished to accompany him and said, "Your prediction is
fulfilled. The Turk has escaped."

The Cossack studied the Major's face and said, "I wish him luck. It is
not prisoners we are in want of. We shall soon not know where to put
them."

When the Major rejoined the Colonel, he found him walking up and down
the room in a state of great agitation.

"Well?"

"Arrest me! I have let the prisoner go!"

The Colonel hastened towards him, and embraced him nervously.

"There! Volodia has his New Year's gift! Let us hope that now he will
let me sleep in peace."

"But ought not a report to be made?"

"Why?"

"And the papers dealing with the prisoner's case?"

"The papers? There are their ashes in the stove. I have burnt them. Poor
wretch! He will have to hurry--he will have to hurry to find his
family."

[Illustration]

_A MISUNDERSTANDING_

[Illustration: "From all directions nuns came gliding towards the
lighted portal."]

[Illustration]

A MISUNDERSTANDING

I

Vespers were drawing to a close. A young nun, Sister Helene, who had
just finished her novitiate and taken the veil, stood in a dark recess,
viewed from whence, the old church, with its round columns, seemed to
fade away into the mysterious darkness under the cupola. She watched the
black outlines of the "Sisters in Jesus" kneeling in the middle of the
nave, the gilded "iconostasis" or church-screen with its blackened
pictures set in frames sparkling with precious stones, its wax-tapers
and lamps burning softly in the heavy incense-laden air. Each time that
the deacon passed, waving his censer, they seemed to burn more brightly.
But Sister Helene was lost in contemp