"Officer," answered the old man, "my companion is a Jew, as well as myself. We have heard, but perhaps we are misinformed, that your prisoner is called Baïkowski; if so, he owes a large sum of money to my companion, who wishes to see him, and get his money, if possible."
"Rebels, rascals, knaves, get out of here! Don't you know that no one can see the prisoner? It is strictly forbidden."
Without hesitation Madré deposited on the bench the other bottle, and beside it three roubles.
"No one. I cannot let any one enter," murmured the Muscovite; then after a moment of reflection he added:--
"Follow me."
"Not I, but my companion," said the old man.
"Which you like. It is nothing to me."
Chelmenko, already tipsy, conducted Jacob to a door which he opened with a key. He pushed him into the room and shut the door after him.
The dark apartment was lighted by a single tallow candle, which hung in a lantern suspended from the ceiling. By this uncertain light Jacob saw stretched on a straw pallet in the corner a human form with one arm extended. From the breast of the man came deep and broken respiration like that of the dying.
The condemned made an effort to carry his hand to his wounded leg, but he fell back heavily with a sharp cry. His head was a little raised, and by the ray of light which fell on his face, Jacob, with a great cry of sorrow, recognized Ivas.