AN UNWILLING CONVERT TO CHRISTIANITY.
On the following morning the Count bethought himself of the Jewish lad,
and the reflection that he had harbored one of the despised people on
his estates for an entire night, rekindled his anger against the whole
race. He rang for Ivan and strode impatiently up and down his
well-furnished library until the coachman appeared.
"Tell the Countess that I await her here, and then bring me the boy you
found on the road!"
Both Louise and Jacob made their appearance shortly after. Jacob had
been washed and his hair combed, and not even the Count could deny that
he was a lad of uncommon beauty.
"What is your name?" interrogated the Count, with the air of a grand
inquisitor.
"Jacob Winenki."
"Where do you live?"
"In the Jew lane," answered the child, slowly.
"But where? In what town?"
Jacob hung his head. He did not know.
"How did you come here?" was the next query.
Then Jacob related, with childish hesitancy, how the soldiers stole him
and his brother from home and took them to a big city, and how he and
Mendel ran away and were caught in a storm. Further information he could
not give, having no recollection of anything that happened from the time
of his lying upon the highway until he found himself in the _droshka_
with the ladies.
"You say that the soldiers came to your house and took you and your
brother away?" asked the Count.
"Yes, sir."
"What did they want with you?"
"One of them said he would make _goyim_ (gentiles) of us," answered the
boy, in his native jargon.
"I see," said Count Drentell, as the truth dawned upon him; "you were
taken to become recruits. So you escaped!"
"Please, sir, Mendel and I ran away. We wanted to go home to father and
mother."
"Were there more boys with you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did they run away, too?"
"I don't know."
"There is not much information to be obtained from the child," said
Drentell, angrily. Then pointing to the boy's face and arm, he asked:
"Did that happen to you on the road?"
"Oh, no; that happened at home," answered Jacob, tearfully; and he
related the story of the cow and the farmer, the details of which were
too deeply impressed upon his memory to be soon forgotten.
Louise understood the jargon of the boy but imperfectly, still her
sympathetic nature comprehended that the boy had been seriously hurt,
and she asked her husband to repeat the story of his injuries.
"Poor fellow," she exclaimed, wiping away a tear. "How cruelly he has
been treated!"
"I suppose it served him right," answered the Count, rudely. "Who knows
what he had been guilty of. One never knows whether a Jew is lying or
telling the truth."
In spite of his doubts upon the subject, Drentell examined the boy's
arm. It was evident that the bone had been broken, and that the fracture
had been imperfectly set. After a short inspection, he hazarded an
opinion that the boy would have a stiff arm all his life.
"It was almost well," sobbed Jacob, "but the soldiers pulled me about so
that it is now much worse."
"Poor boy," sighed the Countess, "how dreadful it must be! Can we do
nothing for him?"
"In the name of St. Nicholas, Louise, cease this sentimental
whimpering," retorted her husband, losing patience.
"But think of a stiff arm through life, and his ear almost torn off! It
is terrible to carry such mutilations to the grave."
"It does not matter much," answered the Count, "he is a Jew."
"True, I had forgotten that. It does make a great difference, does it
not?" And the impulsive little woman dried her eyes and smilingly forgot
her compassion.
"What will you do with him?" she asked, after a pause.
"I don't know. The wisest plan would be to deliver him up to military
headquarters. He was taken from home to be a recruit, and having escaped
from the Czar's soldiers, I would be derelict in my duty if I did not at
once send him back."
At the word "soldiers," Jacob, who had caught but a few stray words of
the conversation, began to howl and shriek.
"No, don't send me back to the soldiers," he pleaded. "They will kill
me! Please don't send me back!"
"Stop your crying," thundered the Count, stopping his ears with his
hands to keep out the disagreeable sounds, "or I will call the soldiers
at once."
This terrible threat had the desired effect, and Jacob, gulping down his
grief, remained quiet save for an occasional sob that would not be
repressed.
"Listen, Dimitri," said the Countess. "I found the boy insensible in the
storm. He is sick and weak. Of what service can a child like that be
among the soldiers? Under rough treatment he would die in a week. Even
though he be a Jew, there is no use in sacrificing his life uselessly."
"But we can't keep him here," urged the Count.
"There is no need of his remaining at Lubny. The principal motive in
taking Jewish children from their homes is to make Christians of them.
That can certainly be better accomplished at a cloister than in camp.
Send the boy to the convent at Poltava; they will baptize him and make a
good Catholic of him, and we will gain our reward in heaven for having
led one erring soul to the Saviour." And the religious woman crossed
herself devoutly.
While his wife argued, Drentell appeared lost in thought. Suddenly his
face became illumined by a fiendish light, and he rubbed his hands in
evident satisfaction.
"Louise," he said, at length, "those are the first sensible words I have
heard you utter since we were married. Your idea is a capital one!"
"I am glad you think so," she replied, wisely refraining from commenting
upon her husband's doubtful compliment. "The Abbess at Valki told me
only the day before yesterday, that for every soul brought into the holy
church, a Christian's happiness would be increased tenfold in Paradise."
"Fanatical absurdities," cried the Count, who was as free from religious
sentiment as his wife was devout. "If I consent to have the child
brought up in a convent, I am not actuated by any considerations of
future reward or punishment. I don't believe in such antiquated dogmas.
But to the convent he shall go, and when they have taught him to forget
his origin and his religion, when they have educated him into a
fanatical, Jew-hating priest, then will I use him to wreak upon his own
race that vengeance which I have sworn never to forego."
Louise shuddered at her husband's vehement gestures and passionate
words. His eyes rolled wildly, his whole body seemed swayed by
uncontrollable rage. Little Jacob, although he understood nothing of the
Count's words, recoiled instinctively and hid his face in his hands.
Drentell gradually regained his composure, and after walking up and down
the room for a few moments, in apparent meditation, he rang the bell.
A servant entered.
"Take the boy back to the barn, and keep him there until I ask for him
again," he commanded. "Then harness up at once and send for _Batushka_
Alexei, the Abbot of the convent at Poltava. Tell his reverence that I
desire to see him as soon as possible on matters pertaining to the holy
church."
The servant disappeared, taking Jacob with him, and the Count and
Countess were left alone to discuss their plans.
It was almost night when the vehicle containing the Abbot rolled up to
the villa, and the _batushka_ (priest) was announced. He was a
powerfully built man, displaying a physique of which a Roman gladiator
might have been proud. His grizzled beard reached down to his waist, and
his flowing black robes gave him the appearance of a dervish. Alexei
enjoyed the reputation of being very devout, and the cloister of which
he was the head was known as the most thoroughly religious in the
Empire. To this man the future of the Jewish lad was to be entrusted.
When the holy man entered the library, both the Count and his wife
crossed themselves reverently.
"Your excellency has sent for me," said Alexei, slowly.
"Yes, _batushka_," answered the Count. "We wish to place in your pious
care a young Jewish boy who, having escaped from his parents' roof, and
having much to fear from the anger of his people, desires to seek
present safety and ultimate salvation of his soul in the bosom of our
holy church. I at once thought of you, as I believe that under your
tuition the lad will be instructed in all that is essential to the
perfect Christian."
"Your excellency does me too much honor," said the priest, meekly. "With
the grace of our Lord Christ, I shall do my utmost to bring this lamb
into the fold."
"The boy is feverish and his mind wanders," continued the Count. "If you
interrogate him, he will tell you that he received certain injuries--a
broken arm and a mutilated ear--from the Christians. I happen to be
conversant with the facts of the case and know that he was injured by
members of his own family, in their impotent frenzy to keep him from
seeking the solace of the only saving church. I desire you to remember
three things, _batushka_: Firstly, that this boy must be taught to
forget absolutely that he belongs to that accursed people; secondly, the
idea must be firmly implanted in his mind that he has been mutilated by
the Jews; and thirdly, he must be taught to despise and detest the
Hebrew race with all the hatred of which his soul is capable. Do you
understand me?"
"I do, your excellency. You desire the boy to so far forget his former
associations, that he will belong heart and soul to the church of
Christ; and as a further precaution that he may never harbor a desire to
return to the religion of his fathers, you desire us to impress him with
an implacable hatred, a thirst for revenge against his race, for wrongs
they have inflicted upon him."
The Count looked at the priest significantly; they had understood one
another.
"You will find the boy docile," continued Drentell, "and unless he
belies the characteristics of his people, you will find him quick and
intelligent. Employ that intelligence for the good of our holy faith and
to the prejudice of the Jewish race. Give him every advantage, every
inducement to advance, and shape his career so that in him the church
will find a faithful supporter and an earnest champion."
"And the Jews an enemy before whom the stoutest of their number shall
quail," continued the priest. "So shall it be, your excellency."
"I shall expect to receive occasional reports of his progress. Let him
be taught to respect me as his benefactor, and once a year I desire him
to spend a week or two with me, in order that by wise counsels and
salutary advice, I may assist the holy church in her noble work.
Remember, too," and here the Count's features assumed a threatening
look, "that this act of to-day is done by the authority of his majesty
the Czar, who will hold you accountable for the strict observance of all
you have promised."
The priest bowed his head humbly.
"I reverence the church, your excellency," he answered, "but above all I
owe allegiance to its spiritual head, the Czar."
All preliminaries having been arranged, Jacob was sent for. The priest,
who not unnaturally expected to see a young man, was greatly surprised
at the appearance of this puny child. He concealed his astonishment as
well as possible, merely observing:
"I presume, your excellency, this is my future pupil."
"It is, and may he prove worthy of his eminent teacher."
"Come, my boy," said the priest, taking the mystified Jacob by the
hand; "say good-by to your benefactors."
But Jacob, upon whom the sombre-robed, grim-visaged stranger did not
make a favorable impression, broke from his hold and took refuge in the
skirts of the Countess, as the most compassionate of the company.
"Don't let them take me away," he sobbed. "Let me remain with you."
"Be a good boy and he will take you home to your papa and mamma," said
the Countess, with the best intentions in the world.
"Will he take me to Mendel?" asked the boy.
"Yes, he is going there now and will take you to all your friends."
The child wiped away his tears and a smile rippled over his face. He put
his hand confidingly into that of the priest, and said:
"Come, I will go with you."
The priest, in spite of his fanaticism, took the poor Jew in his arms
and kissed him tenderly. Then setting him again upon his feet, he
whispered:
"I shall take him to a kind and loving mother, one from whose embrace he
will not care to flee--the Holy Mother of God."
Jacob entered the wagon with his new acquaintance, and in the belief
that he was going direct to the home of his parents, he fell asleep.
When he awoke, he found himself borne by strong arms into the convent,
whose doors closed upon him, separating him forever from his home and
his religion.