the crowd was hushed in admiration of the heroic deed, but
it was only for a moment.

"Forwards, we are losing time!" shouted one of the principals, and the
rioters rushed down the streets to continue their work of destruction.

Suddenly a priest, laboring under powerful excitement, appeared before
them. His features were deadly pale and a strange fire gleamed in his
eyes.

"Stop!" he cried; "in the name of the Madonna, I command you to stop!"

The mob, overawed by his aspect as well as by his words, paused in their
mad career. The ringleaders fell back for a moment in surprise.

"Hush!" said one; "it is Mikail the priest who appointed us to our posts
and gave us our instructions. Let us hear what he has to say."

"You have been deceived," cried the priest, wildly. "Stop your mad
slaughter. The Jews are innocent of the wrongs that have been imputed to
them. Do you hear me? The Jews must not be persecuted! The _ukase_
giving you their property does not exist; it was but an invention!"

"Nonsense," answered one of the leaders; "I saw it with my own eyes. On,
friends! We want the wealth of the Jews; we want their blood! Down with
them!"

Mikail endeavored to bar the way.

"You shall not do further harm, I tell you! Hear me! In the name of the
Czar, I command you to halt!"

The monk's incoherent sentences fell upon deaf ears. Like an avalanche,
the mighty mob swept down upon him, carrying him along upon the
resistless tide.

When Joseph found his street deserted, he uttered a fervent prayer of
gratitude.

"We are safe for the moment, father," he said; "it will be some time
before the rabble returns this way. I shall change my wet clothing, and
while you guard the house, I will go to Rabbi Winenki's. Perhaps he
needs my assistance."

"Go, my boy," answered the old man; "and God be with you."

A frightful scene had in the meantime been enacted at the Rabbi's
dwelling, whither many an unprotected woman and child had hastened in
the belief that it would be safe from the mob. The detachment of rioters
under the leadership of Loris had already attacked it and the crying and
pleading of the inmates could be heard above the confusion of the mob.
But they pleaded in vain. Had anyone but Loris been in command, the
house of the beloved and honored Rabbi might have been spared, for his
many acts of kindness had endeared him to the _moujiks_ as well as to
his own people. When Loris arrived before the humble dwelling, ho