Barnwell mingled with his fellow-servants in the hospital, and answered their questions regarding Batavsky.
Concluding that it was best to humor the prevailing idea, he half-way admitted that the old man belonged to a noble family, and that he had been given a Christian burial at the instigation of the Czar himself.
This, of course, produced food for comment and controversy for a long time, during which Barnwell, now able to speak the Russian language, was able to converse and to learn much.
The short days of Siberia give one but a moment's warning between daylight and total darkness, and although this is not known or felt away down in the gold-mines, where they work from four o'clock in the morning until ten o'clock at night–where night and day are all the same to the poor victims–those on the surface of the earth understand that when the sun goes down darkness follows, save when the Aurora Borealis comes with its weird light to illuminate the frozen world of Siberia.
Kanoffskie waited with impatience.
Somehow or other this young American had wormed himself into his cold and beastly nature, and even exercised more influence over him than he knew of.
Darkness came on, and Barnwell went to his master, as ordered.
He found him pacing his office in a highly nervous state.
"I am here, surgeon," said Barnwell.
"Stay here. Do not leave me," said the surgeon, with a sigh.