"I–I hardly know, my son," he replied, after a pause, during which he looked earnestly at him. "I am supposed to-that is, the surgeon has been so good as to ask me to teach you the Russian language. You have been outraged."
"Yes, sir; but not to the extent that you have been," said Barnwell, taking his hand.
"My son, I like you," said he, returning the pressure of his hand. "There is something about you that fills a long vacant place in my heart. I will do all I can to teach you the Russian language, but at the same time, if I find you apt, I will teach you even more than that, for there is much more to be learned, my son."
"And I hope I may be found worthy, for I will admit that I like you much more than words can express. I was told something of the time you have slaved here, and also that you were now insane, but it does not seem so."
The old man was silent a moment.
"Well, my son, I will not say but you have been rightly informed, for there are times when I do not know myself, and it may be that I am then insane. But what would you or any man be, suffering all I have suffered?"
"It is a wonder that you are alive, my dear sir," said Barnwell.
"I wonder at it myself, but I have clung to life for the sake of revenge–for the hope I had of one day escaping from this frozen place and killing the villain whose treachery consigned me here. And now you come and tell me that other means have taken away my revenge! I–I feel a great change creeping over me. Yes, yes–but I will do all I can to teach you the Russian language."
"But, from what I have told you, you can understand that I have not long to remain here, and probably but little use for the language."
"Poor boy!" moaned the old man, shaking his bowed head sadly.