“Ha! ha! my pretty champion. So that is the way you speak of the justice of His Majesty! Your words betray you: they show that you, too, have become imbued with the revolutionary teaching of the propaganda.” Mascha saw she had been trapped. In a moment she knew that he suspected her of Nihilistic tendencies. Martianoff noticed her alarm, and said: “You need not fear. I don’t intend that you should share your father’s fate. You are too pretty for that.” “Have you decided to give me food?” she demanded, her brows knit in displeasure. His coarse, sensual features again relaxed into a leering smile, as he suddenly flung his arm around her neck. Bending, he placed his lips close to her ear, and whispered some words. “No! no!” she cried wildly. “God protect me!” And she struggled to free herself from his hateful embrace. “You refuse?” he said, in a stern, harsh voice. “I would rather die than agree to such terms,” she replied, her eyes flashing with indignation. “Very well,” he snarled, as he thrust her from him impatiently. “Go back to your hovel and die, you daughter of a dog. Begone!” “But your Excellency—I——” “No more words,” he thundered, adding a curse. “Go! or I’ll fling you out.” Staggering to the door, sorrowful and crestfallen, she drew back the bolt and went out, her eyes half-blinded by tears. The moment she had gone, the General touched a gong, at the same time muttering: “The dainty, obstinate little bird must be brought to her senses. She must be put into a cage and tamed.” “Ivanovitch,” he said aloud, addressing his servant. “That Jewess is a Nihilist. Order Osnavitsch to have her closely watched.” Then he viciously bit the end off another cigar, and taking up the paper, resumed his reading. Mascha, after leaving the Palace of the Governor, had wandered about for several hours in search of some one who would give her bread; but all her efforts were futile, and when she returned to the Ghetto she had found that her mother had passed away. With the moonlight full upon her she was kneeling beside the body, her face buried in the ragged covering, and sobbing as if her heart would break. Unable to restrain her flood of emotion, she did not notice the cautious opening of the door, or the entrance of a tall, dark figure that crept noiselessly up behind her and stood in the shadow watching, and listening to her murmurings.