invoked what sounded like a blessing on us,--in Hebrew, I think.

"You can keep all that for the gracious lady," growled Mishka. "It is to
her you owe your present deliverance."

"It is, indeed," he answered in Russian. "The God of our fathers will
bless her,--yea, and she shall be blessed. And He will bless you,
Excellencies,--you and your seed even to the third and fourth
generation, inasmuch that you also have worked His will, and have
delivered His children out of the hands of evil-doers."

Mishka scratched his head and looked sheepish. This blessing seemed to
embarrass him more than any amount of cursing would have done.

"They are harmless folk, these Jews," he grunted. "And they are brave in
their way, although they are forever cringing. See--the old man goes
with the others to try and check the course of the fires. They are like
ants in a disturbed ants' nest. They begin to repair the damage while it
is yet being done. To-morrow, perchance even to-day, they will resume
their business, and will truckle to those who set out to outrage and
murder them this night! That is what makes the Jew unconquerable. But it
is difficult to teach him to fight, even in defence of his women; though
we are doing something in that way among the younger men. They must have
done well to hold out so long."

"How did they get arms?" I asked.

"They have not many so far, but there is one who comes and goes among
them,--one of themselves,--who brings, now a revolver or two, now a
handful of cartridges, now a rifle taken to pieces; always at the risk
of his life, but that to him is less than nothing."

"Yossof!" I exclaimed.

He nodded, but said no more, for Count Vassilitzi came across the square
to us.

"All is quiet?" he asked. "Good. We can do no more, and it is time we
were off. You are Monsieur Wynn? I have heard of you from my cousin. We
must be friends, Monsieur!"

He held out his hand and I gripped it. I'd have known him anywhere for
Anne's kinsman, he was so like her, more like her in manner even than in
looks; that is, like her when she was in a frivolous mood.

There was quite a crowd now on the steps of the synagogue, a crowd of
weeping women--yes, and weeping men, too,--who pressed around Anne,
jostling each other in the attempt to kiss her hands, or even the hem of
her gown.

She looked utterly exhausted, and I saw,--not without a queer pang at
heart,--that Loris had his arm round her, was indeed, rather carry