"Oh, if we cannot get in here, come with me, for the love of Heaven, and help me to get him out of that horrible place--oh, if you only knew what has happened!" "I know all about it, Vjera," answered the Cossack.

"That is the reason why I am here.

I was with them when it happened and I ran off to get Fischelowitz.

As ill luck would have it, he was out." In a few words Schmidt explained the whole affair and told of his own efforts.

Vjera was breathless with excitement and anxiety.
"What is to be done?
Dear Herr Schmidt! What is to be done ?" She wrung her hands together and fixed her tearful eyes on his.
"I am afraid that there is nothing to be done until morning--" "But there must be something, there shall be something done! They will drive him mad in that dreadful place--he is so proud and so sensitive--you do not know--the mere idea of being in prison--" "It is not so bad as that," answered Schmidt, trying to reassure her.
"They assured me that he was treated with every consideration, you know.
Of course that means that he was not locked up like a common prisoner." "Do you think so ?" Vjera's tone expressed no conviction in the matter.
"Certainly.