arance would
have caused me to reject it.

"There I lay for weeks, perhaps months, for I lost all reckoning of
time, without knowing what was to be done with me. I almost wished they
would send me to Siberia, so that I might escape that foul atmosphere.
If their jails are so terrible, what must be the condition of their
Troubetzkoi prison?"

"Poor boy," sobbed his father, "what a terrible experience you have had.
But tell us, how did you escape?"

"By the merest accident. They recently changed the warden of the prison,
and the new incumbent, a kind-hearted man, at once visited the cells and
inquired into the charges upon which each prisoner was detained. When he
heard my story, he evinced the greatest surprise, and on investigating
the matter, he came to the conclusion that I had been forgotten by the
authorities, as it was not customary to detain a prisoner so long upon
so slight an offence. The charge against me was simply participating in
a student's quarrel, and the warden was inclined to be lenient with me.
He at once made inquiries concerning my future fate, and learned that I
was to be kept a prisoner until my punishment had been definitely
decided upon. As there was no order to keep me in a cell, the warden
allowed me to roam about the prison at will, and I made myself generally
useful about the place. I tried to write to you, to inform you of my
condition, but it was forbidden. To-day, the warden sent his assistant
to town upon an errand, and he himself went down into one of the lower
corridors to dispose of some new prisoners. He had left his keys upon
his table. At last I saw liberty within reach! There was nobody about. I
seized the keys, unlocked the outer gates and ran for my life. I feared
I would be seen and recognized if I came directly through Kief, so I ran
to the outskirts of the town and came here by a roundabout road. I have
walked and run for the last two hours, through mud and rain, through
swamps and ditches, until my feet would support me no longer. I thought
I would never get here."

"And if you should be discovered?" asked the Rabbi.

"Then I will be taken back and treated more harshly than before. I would
rather die than go back to that dreary cell. It is dangerous for you to
harbor me. I must leave here at once, this very night."

"Where will you go?" asked Kathinka, who was seated at the sufferer's
side, and wiped the perspiration from his fevered brow.

"I do not know. Anywhere! W