"I will make some inquiries," the governor said, "and find out, if I can, where he is at present. Yes, I should think that he would be able to assist you, if he chose to interest himself in the matter."
Ten days later, the governor came into Charlie's room.
"An officer has arrived, with an order for your removal," he said. "You are to be taken up again to Notteburg."
"I am very sorry," Charlie said. "I have been very comfortable here. You have been very kind to me, and I feel sure the change will not be for the better. Besides, we are nearly into September now, and in that marshy country round the lake and river, the winter will be even more severe than it is here. The only thing I can think of is that the Swedes at Vyburg may have taken a Russian captain prisoner, and that they are going to exchange us."
The governor shook his head.
"There are no longer any Swedes at Vyburg. All Ingria is in our hands and the Swedes have retired into Finland. It may be that it is the work of your friend. I sent a message to Peter Michaeloff, should he be found in that neighbourhood, by an officer who was going there, telling him that you were here, and that, having met him when a prisoner at Plescow, you relied on his good offices. Should the officer have found him there, and have given him my message, he may probably have begged the field marshal to order you to be taken to the prison there, where he could be near you, and visit you sometimes."
"Your doctors must have a good deal more influence in your army than they have among the Swedes," Charlie remarked, "if that is how it has come about."
"It would be a matter of favour," the governor said. "If Michaeloff is acquainted with the field marshal, or had attended him when unwell, he could ask a little favour of that sort. If the field marshal sent you here, he could send for you again without more trouble than signing his name to the order."
"Well, if it is Michaeloff who has done this," Charlie grumbled; "no doubt he meant it kindly, but I would much rather that he left me here. A ride of two hundred and fifty miles, in August, is not pleasant to begin with, and the thought of winter in those swamps is enough to make one shiver."
"With a comfortable room and a warm stove, you will not find much to complain of, Captain Carstairs," the governor said with a smile; "and, no doubt, Michaeloff may be enabled to obtain leave for you to go out with him on parole. I was about myself to ask you, now that you are strong and well again, whether you would like to give your parole, and offer you the use of my horse for a ride, when inclined for it."