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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?’

They ran to fetch Schliekelmann, the general’s adjutant. Girshel began to turn greenish, his mouth fell open, his eyes seemed starting out of his head. The adjutant came in. The general gave him the requisite instructions. The secretary showed his sickly, pock-marked face for an instant. Two or three officers peeped into the room inquisitively.

‘Have pity, your Excellency,’ I said to the general in German as best I could; ‘let him off….’

‘You, young man,’ he answered me in Russian, ‘I was saying to you, are inexperienced, and therefore I beg you silent to be, and me no more to trouble.’

Girshel with a shriek dropped at the general’s feet.

‘Your Excellency, have mercy; I will never again, I will not, your Excellency; I have a wife… your Excellency, a daughter… have mercy….’

‘It’s no use!’

‘Truly, your Excellency, I am guilty… it’s the first time, your Excellency, the first time, believe me!’

‘You furnished no other documents?’

‘The first time, your Excellency,… my wife… my children… have mercy….’

‘But you are a spy.’

‘My wife… your Excellency… my children….’

The general felt a twinge, but there was no getting out of it.

‘According to the law, hang the Hebrew,’ he said constrainedly, with the air of a man forced to do violence to his heart, and sacrifice his better feelings to inexorable duty–‘hang him! Fiodor Karlitch, I beg you to draw up a report of the occurrence….’

A horrible change suddenly came over Girshel. Instead of the ordinary timorous alarm peculiar to the Jewish nature, in his face was reflected the horrible agony that comes before death. He writhed like a wild beast trapped, his mouth stood open, there was a hoarse rattle in his throat, he positively leapt up and down, convulsively moving his elbows. He had on only one slipper; they had forgotten to put the other on again… his gown fell open… his cap had fallen off….

We all shuddered; the general stopped speaking.

‘Your Excellency,’ I began again, ‘pardon this wretched creature.’

‘Impossible! It is the law,’ the general replied abruptly, and not without emotion, ‘for a warning to others.’

‘For pity’s sake….’

‘Mr. Cornet, be so good as to return to your post,’ said the general, and he motioned me imperiously to the door.

I bowed and went out. But seeing that in reality I had no post anywhere, I remained at no great distance from the general’s house.

Two minutes later Girshel made his appearance, conducted by Siliavka and three soldiers. The poor Jew was in a state of stupefaction, and could hardly move his legs. Siliavka went by me to the camp, and soon returned with a rope in his hands. His coarse but not ill-natured face wore a look of strange, exasperated commiseration. At the sight of the rope the Jew flung up his arms, sat down, and burst into sobs. The soldiers stood silently about him, and stared grimly at the earth. I went up to Girshel, addressed him; he sobbed like a baby, and did not even look at me. With a hopeless gesture I went to my tent, flung myself on a rug, and closed my eyes….

Suddenly some one ran hastily and noisily into my tent. I raised my head and saw Sara; she looked beside herself. She rushed up to me, and clutched at my hands.

‘Come along, come along,’ she insisted breathlessly.

‘Where? what for? let us stop here.’

‘To father, to father, quick… save him… save him!’

‘To what father?’

‘My father; they are going to hang him….’

‘What! is Girshel…?’

‘My father… I ’11 tell you all about it later,’ she added, wringing her hands in despair: ‘only come… come….’

We ran out of the tent. In the open ground, on the way to a solitary birch-tree, we could see a group of soldiers…. Sara pointed to them without speaking….