"What a pretty lad," said the lady, who was no less important a person than the Countess Drentell, of Lubny, to her companion. "The poor child must be badly hurt." "Perhaps a little brandy would strengthen him," suggested the practical coachman, who knew the value of the remedy. The cordial revived him, and, opening his eyes, he murmured: "Wait for me, Mendel; I will go along." "Drive on, Ivan, as quickly as possible; we must get the little fellow some dry clothes," said the Countess. Yielding to the luxury of shelter and to the effect of the brandy, Jacob sank into a sweet sleep. Mendel had in the meantime reached the village and knocked at the first house. A _moujik_ emerged and eyed him suspiciously. "What do you want?" he asked, gruffly. "We have been caught in the storm and my brother is out on the road, dying. Please help me bring him here." "You are a Jew, are you not?" asked the man, savagely, as he recognized by the boy's jargon that he was a member of the proscribed race. "Yes, sir," answered Mendel, timidly. "Then go about your business; I wont put myself out for a Jew!" saying which, he shut the door in the boy's face. Sadly Mendel wandered on until he met a kindly disposed woman, who directed him to the Jewish quarter. "At the house of prayer there is always someone to be found," thought Mendel, and thither he bent his steps. Half-a-dozen men at once surrounded him and listened to his harrowing story; half-a-dozen hearts beat in sympathy with his distress. One of the number soon spread the dismal tidings; the entire congregation, headed by Mendel, hastened to where the child had been left. As they came to the highway, a _droshka_ passed them at full speed; they fell back to the right and left to make room for the galloping horses and in a moment the carriage had disappeared. When they reached the spot pointed out by Mendel they saw the impress of a child's form in the yielding ground, and a tattered little cap which was Jacob's; but the child was gone. "The soldiers have recaptured him!" gasped Mendel, with a groan of anguish. "Oh, my poor brother; God help you!" and sank unconscious into the friendly arms of his new acquaintances. CHAPTER VII. A RUSSIAN NOBLEMAN. After an hour's sojourn in "The Imperial Crown," the best inn of Poltava, Countess Drentell continued her journey towards her country-seat at Lubny, where the carriage arrived just before nightfall. With the creaking of the wheels upon the gravel path leading to the house, Jacob awoke and gazed sleepily about him. "See, Tekla; he is awake!" cried the Countess. "Poor child!" The carriage stopped; Ivan opened the door and assisted the ladies to alight. "Carry the little one into the house and take him to the kitchen to dry," commanded the Countess. "What a surprise he will be to Loris and how he will enjoy having a playmate!" Another servant appeared at the door to assist the Countess.