"Hurry," he whispered, looking about him, anxiously; "hide me somewhere before the officers come after me."
A look of disappointment passed over the Rabbi's face.
"Then you are not acquitted?" he asked.
"No! I escaped. I'll tell you all about it, but not here. They might come and find me. Let us go upstairs, anywhere out of sight. Send for my parents! It would be dangerous for me to visit them, but I must see them before I leave."
"You are not going away again!" cried Kathinka.
"I must. It is death to remain here!"
The Rabbi supported the young man while he went to an upper floor, and leaving him to the ministrations of his wife and daughter, he despatched a messenger to the Kiersons to inform them of the arrival of the unexpected guest.
By the time they were all assembled, Joseph had, in a measure revived and recovered his cheerful spirits.
"But where have you been and what have you been doing?" asked the Rabbi, after the first loving greetings had been exchanged.
"I have been in a terrible place," sighed the student, shuddering at the mere recollection of his experience. "When I was taken from home I was led to the jail near the barracks, up in the Petcherskoi quarter, and without a trial, without a hearing of any kind, I was thrown into a cell about five feet square. After my eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, I looked about me. In one corner I found a bed of straw with a cover as thin as paper. A broken chair and a rough wooden basin completed the furniture. The place reeked with corruption and filth, and the stench was almost unbearable. Of the vile food they placed before me, I could eat nothing except the bread. It was trefa, but had it been prepared according to our rites, its nauseating appearance would have caused me to reject it.