“How about your father?” suggested Sabatoff. “As military governor he has absolute authority over political prisoners. He loves you, I know; but how about his son? If he were told who Borodin is, would he do anything?”
She slowly shook her head. “It would be useless to appeal to father in his behalf.”
“Then strategy is our only course,” Sabatoff declared. “We must get some of our comrades introduced into the Fortress as guards, and through them manage his escape.”
“There is a bare chance that might succeed if we had time for it,” returned Sonya. “But it would take months. In the meantime the police may any day discover Borodin is Borski, and discovery will be followed by immediate execution. Whatever we do we must do at once.”
“If we could only take the Fortress by force—blow it up—wipe it off the earth!” growled Pestel.
All echoed that grim wish. But how achieve it? Force might do for weaker prisons they all agreed, but what force less than an uprisen nation could subdue Peter and Paul? A Paris mob overthrew the Bastille, yes—but the Bastille was a house of cards compared to that granite citadel beside the Neva.
“We will do that some day—never fear!” said The White One. “But at present we must have some other plan. What is yours, Sonya?”
All again turned their eyes upon Sonya. “It is very simple. To buy the coöperation of a prison official.”
“Who?”
“The very highest—the governor of Peter and Paul. I have heard that Governor Delwig has fallen into disfavour and is soon to be displaced, and is very bitter about it.” She looked at Sabatoff. “Is that true?”