In a few moments we had bound his hands with the doctor’s scarf, and having disarmed him, allowed him to rise. Von Gaden invited Lykof to come with us, that he might dress his slight wound, and after a little hesitation, the invitation was accepted, and we returned towards the doctor’s house, the prisoner walking in advance and covered by my pistol, which I kept ready cocked.
“Go a step faster than we do,” I said sharply, “and I will shoot you.”
Thus we moved along in a solemn manner towards Von Gaden’s quarters. Even in the darkness I was sure that I recognized my prisoner’s figure, and was not surprised to have my supposition verified on entering the house. It was the Boyar Ramodanofsky’s steward, Polotsky. Von Gaden looked at him with a grunt of disgust.
“What will you do with him?” I asked.
The physician stood a moment absorbed in thought.
Meanwhile, Lykof remained in the shadow by the door, taking no part in the discussion, although he would naturally have been the most keenly interested. After a little hesitation, Von Gaden summoned a servant, and the two took Polotsky to a small room at the left of the door, and securing the window, bolted him in and left him to his own reflections. Then the doctor invited us to enter his study, where the tapers were burning, and he had appliances at hand to bandage Lykof’s throat. Entering the room in advance, I was startled by an exclamation from Von Gaden, and looking around, saw his eyes fastened with astonishment on the face of Peter Lykof, who was standing before the light, and having dropped his cloak, was revealed in his close-fitting garments, a large muscular man, whose white hair contrasted strongly with his bronzed complexion. Lykof was regarding the Jew with almost a smile on his stern face, and I saw that the side which had escaped the distortion of the scar was handsome. Von Gaden shaded his eyes with his hand, gazing at his visitor in silence until Lykof spoke.
“You recognize me, I see, doctor,” he said; “but it is not necessary that others should know me also.”
“I understand,” exclaimed Von Gaden, grasping his outstretched hand warmly. “I should have known you among a thousand, although it is a long time, and the years have made some changes.”
“Sorry ones, I fear,” replied the stranger, smiling. “But you should recognize your own handiwork.”
The doctor seemed suddenly to recollect his business, and bustled about.