began to hurl them into the waves. Pitiful cries resounded on all
sides; but the stern Zaporozhtzi only laughed when they saw the Jewish
legs, cased in shoes and stockings, struggling in the air. The poor
orator who had called down destruction upon himself jumped out of the
caftan, by which they had seized him, and in his scant parti-coloured
under waistcoat clasped Bulba's legs, and cried, in piteous tones,
"Great lord! gracious noble! I knew your brother, the late Doroscha.
He was a warrior who was an ornament to all knighthood. I gave him
eight hundred sequins when he was obliged to ransom himself from the
Turks."

"You knew my brother?" asked Taras.

"By heavens, I knew him. He was a magnificent nobleman."

"And what is your name?"

"Yankel."

"Good," said Taras; and after reflecting, he turned to the Cossacks
and spoke as follows: "There will always be plenty of time to hang the
Jew, if it proves necessary; but for to-day give him to me."

So saying, Taras led him to his waggon, beside which stood his
Cossacks. "Crawl under the waggon; lie down, and do not move. And you,
brothers, do not surrender this Jew."

So saying, he returned to the square, for the whole crowd had long
since collected there. All had at once abandoned the shore and the
preparation of the boats; for a land-journey now awaited them, and not