The red-haired Jew drank a small cup of brandy, took off his caftan, and betook himself--looking, in his shoes and stockings, very like a lean chicken--with his wife, to something resembling a cupboard.
Two little Jews lay down on the floor beside the cupboard, like a couple of dogs.

But Taras did not sleep; he sat motionless, drumming on the table with his fingers.

He kept his pipe in his mouth, and puffed out smoke, which made the Jew sneeze in his sleep and pull his coverlet over his nose.

Scarcely was the sky touched with the first faint gleams of dawn than he pushed Yankel with his foot, saying: "Rise, Jew, and give me your count's dress!" In a moment he was dressed.

He blackened his moustache and eyebrows, put on his head a small dark cap; even the Cossacks who knew him best would not have recognised him.