“The lash,” replied the Russian calmly.
Again Jack shuddered. The word had an ugly sound.
It seemed only a short time later when a hand was heard fumbling at the lock of the door to the dungeon. Jack and the Russian got to their feet, and then the lad realized that not even his feet were bound. He walked up and down in the darkness several times, with hands outstretched that he might not bump into a wall.
Now a streak of light pierced the darkness and Jack made out a door at the far end of the dungeon. There came a hoarse hail, and although the words were unintelligible to Jack, he supposed that they were a summons to come out. He approached the door, the Russian behind him.
Outside the door Jack and the Russian were surrounded by a squad of soldiers, fur clad. Then they were marched into the open. Here, for the first time, Jack discovered that his great coat was missing. He had not noticed the fact before, but the extreme cold now called it forcibly to his attention. He shivered.
In spite of the cold, however, Jack glanced around eagerly as he was led along. On several sides were large rock structures. Men went in and men came out. All were heavily clad and were, apparently, soldiers.
A short distance farther on, however, they came upon a group of figures who were not soldiers. These were prisoners, and they were not clad so warmly as were their captors. Most of them shivered and quaked with the cold. Jack, fresh from the warmth of the dungeon, eyed them pitifully.
Old men and young, girls and women there were in abundance; and upon each countenance was the same expression—that of fright. They were plainly subdued and cowed.
Straight toward this group Jack and the Russian were marched by their guards. There they were halted and herded into line like a lot of sheep, while their captors drew an armed circle about them. Directly there approached a man taller and more handsomely garbed than the others. This man Jack took to be the commander of the outpost. It transpired that he was right, for the big man was General Surgoff, commander of this particular prison camp.
The big officer eyed the prisoners closely; then he signaled one of his soldiers. In response to the signal, the man hurried away, to return a few moments later with two other stalwart fellows, each armed with great black whips.