“Yes,” said Yussuf; “you are to be at liberty to go where you please in the old city, but it will not be far, on account of the snow.”
“And outside the town?” said the professor.
“Outside the town, excellency,” said Yussuf sadly. “You do not realise that we had a narrow escape that night.”
“Escape?”
“Yes, of being destroyed; the snow everywhere is tremendous. Even if no more comes, we shall be shut in here, perhaps, for months.”
“Shut in?”
“Yes; the mountains are impassable, and there is nothing for it but to submit to fate.”
“But the snow will soon melt in this sunshine.”
“No, excellency, only on the surface, unless there is a general thaw. You forget where we are, high up in the Dagh. Even where the snow melts, it will freeze every night, and make the roads more impassable. As to our path by the side of the precipice it will not be available for months.”
There was a serious calm in Yussuf’s words that was most impressive. It seemed so hard, too, just as they had been on the point of escaping, for the winter to have closed in upon them so soon, and with such terrible severity; but that their case was hopeless seemed plain enough, for the guards were withdrawn from their door, and in the afternoon they relieved the tedium of their confinement by walking along the cuttings that had been made.