od the jargon of the boy but imperfectly, still her
sympathetic nature comprehended that the boy had been seriously hurt,
and she asked her husband to repeat the story of his injuries.

"Poor fellow," she exclaimed, wiping away a tear. "How cruelly he has
been treated!"

"I suppose it served him right," answered the Count, rudely. "Who knows
what he had been guilty of. One never knows whether a Jew is lying or
telling the truth."

In spite of his doubts upon the subject, Drentell examined the boy's
arm. It was evident that the bone had been broken, and that the fracture
had been imperfectly set. After a short inspection, he hazarded an
opinion that the boy would have a stiff arm all his life.

"It was almost well," sobbed Jacob, "but the soldiers pulled me about so
that it is now much worse."

"Poor boy," sighed the Countess, "how dreadful it must be! Can we do
nothing for him?"

"In the name of St. Nicholas, Louise, cease this sentimental
whimpering," retorted her husband, losing patience.

"But think of a stiff arm through life, and his ear almost torn off! It
is terrible to carry such mutilations to the grave."

"It does not matter much," answered the Count, "he is a Jew."

"True, I had forgotten that. It does make a great difference, does it
not?" And the impulsive little woman dried her eyes and smilingly forgot
her compassion.

"What will you do with him?" she asked, after a pause.

"I don't know. The wisest plan would be to deliver him up to military
headquarters. He was taken from home to be a recruit, and having escaped
from the Czar's soldiers, I would be derelict in my duty if I did not at
once send him back."

At the word "soldiers," Jacob, who had caught but a few stray words of
the conversation, began to howl and shriek.

"No, don't send me back to the soldiers," he pleaded. "They will kill
me! Please don't send me back!"

"Stop your crying," thundered the Count, stopping his ears with his
hands to keep out the disagreeable sounds, "or I will call the soldiers
at once."

This terrible threat had the desired effect, and Jacob, gulping down his
grief, remained quiet save for an occasional sob that would not be
repressed.

"Listen, Dimitri," said the Countess. "I found the boy insensible in the
storm. He is sick and weak. Of what service can a child like that be
among the soldiers? Under rough treatment he would die in a week. Even
though he be a Jew, there is no use in sacrificing his li