“Open the gate,” demanded Sandoff. “I am in haste, and must make up for lost time.”
The man hesitated. “Have you seen Colonel Nord already, your excellency? He came but a moment or two ago.”
“Certainly, you blockhead!” roared Sandoff, losing control of himself. “Else why should I be here? Open that gate instantly!”
The officer was cowed by this determined attitude, and moved forward with the evident intention of obeying; but before he could take three steps a door was heard to slam violently, and from the post yard came a volley of shouts and curses, delivered in Colonel Nord’s high pitched voice. Then followed answering cries, and a quick running of feet over the frozen snow.
The officer halted, and looked keenly at the occupants of the sledge. Then he called “Guard! guard!” in a shrill voice.
“Hold firm,” whispered Shamarin. “There’s only one way—I’ll do it—stand by me.”
With a leap he was on the ground, and running toward the gate, where stood a single Cossack. As he passed the officer the latter whipped out his sword, and started in pursuit. Sandoff caught the gleam of steel, and, leaning from the seat, whip in hand, he dealt the fellow so terrific a blow on the arm that he dropped the weapon and howled with pain. Shamarin reached the gate and was confronted by the burly soldier before it, rifle in hand. There was no time for parleying. Shamarin dodged under the Cossack’s rifle and flung the fellow to one side of the road, where he lay stunned in the snow and ice. Then he dashed furiously at the gate—which was fortunately not locked—and by a single blow knocked it half way back on its hinges.
It was now Sandoff’s turn. Swinging his whip overhead, he brought it down smartly on the horses. The spirited brutes plunged madly forward, and he urged them with hoarse shouts to still greater speed. As they dashed through the gateway, Shamarin regained his seat by a flying leap.
The whole affair had consumed but a few seconds. Before the Cossacks could realize the audacity of the deed, the sledge and its occupants were whizzing away into the night at a rate of speed that had seldom been equaled on the great Siberian road.
The officer picked up his sword with his uninjured arm, and swore and yelled alternately until he was hoarse. The vanquished Cossack rose to his feet, and idiotically jerked the gate shut with a bang. The others ran for their horses and mounted in hot haste—and in the midst of all the confusion up clattered Colonel Nord and his escort, bawling at the top of their voices.