The general looked at Siliavka.
'Why, he's raving, your Excellency. His honour the officer here took the plan out of his slipper.'
The general looked at me. I was obliged to nod assent.
'You are a spy from the enemy, my good man....'
'Not I... not I...' whispered the distracted Jew.
'You have the enemy with similar information before provided? Confess....'
'How could I?'
'You will not deceive me, my good man. Are you a spy?'
The Jew closed his eyes, shook his head, and lifted the skirts of his gown.
'Hang him,' the general pronounced expressively after a brief silence,'according to the law. Where is Mr. Fiodor Schliekelmann?'