nd their fast continued.

The smiling fields through which they rode, the sunny sky above them,
the merry birds warbling in the bushes, had no attraction for the
ill-fated boys. The world was but a vast desert, an unfriendly
wilderness to them. But Mendel's mind, sharpened by misfortune, was not
dormant. A thought of escape had already presented itself to his active
brain.

"If Jacob and I could only manage to run away and reach our uncle in
Kief," he mused.

Presently he plucked up courage and asked the guard: "Will you please
tell me what you are going to do with us?"

"You will find out when you get to Kharkov," was the ungracious
rejoinder.

To Kharkov! The information was welcome indeed. Not that Mendel had ever
been in that place, but he recollected hearing his uncle say that he had
come through Kharkov on his way from Kief. It must be on the direct
route to the latter city. O God! if he could but escape!

A dark, stormy night found the travellers in the miserable little
village of Poltarack. The weary horses were unharnessed and the soldiers
looked about for comfortable quarters for the night. They found refuge
in a dilapidated structure, the only inn of which the place could boast.
The children were led to a barn, where a bountiful supply of straw
served them as a bed. A piece of bread and a glass of rank brandy formed
their evening meal, and hunger left them no desire to investigate
whether the humble repast was _kosher_ (clean) or not.

The footsteps of the guards had scarcely died away in the distance,
before Mendel sprang to the door and endeavored to open it. It was
securely locked and the boy turned disconsolate to his companions. It
was the hour when, at home, their fathers would send them lovingly to
bed, when their mothers would tuck them comfortably under the covers and
kiss them good-night; and here they lay, clad in tatters, numb with
cold, pinched with hunger; pictures of misery and woe. Heart-rending
were the sighs, bitter the complaints, in which the poor lads gave
utterance to their feelings.

"Come, boys!" at length cried Mendel, "it wont do to grieve. Let us bear
up as bravely as possible. They will take us to Kharkov and leave us at
military headquarters. Perhaps we can escape. If we are kept together it
will be difficult, but if they separate us, it will perhaps be easy to
give the soldiers in charge the slip. If you get away, do not at once go
back home or you will be recaptured. G