The owner came running out of the building, shouting and gesticulating as he ran, but there was nothing to bar their progress, and they very soon had left the town behind.
The whole thing had been so sudden that Simon had hardly time to realize what had happened until they were out in the open country, then he leant forward and shouted in De Richleau’s ear:
“The way — will you be able to find it?”
The Duke’s only answer was to point with his whip to the stars. High above them, and a little to the left, Simon made out the “Great Bear”, with its pointers to the North Star. They were the only stars he knew, but it was enough. He realized that they must be going in the right direction.
The three horses carried them forward at a fast trot, but De Richleau was too old a soldier not to know the necessity of economizing their staying-power. Once he felt that they were safe from immediate pursuit he reduced the pace. At the end of the each hour he halted for ten minutes, carefully rugging up the horses against a chill.
Mile after mile was eaten up as the night wore on; the road twisted and turned a little here and there, but in the main it led them through vast stretches of glistening, snow-covered forest, ever to the eastward, towards the heart of Siberia.
At one o’clock in the morning they reached the Tavda river. There was no bridge and only a primitive wooden ferry.
They knocked up the ferryman, but he refused to turn out and take them over at that hour. De Richleau did not press the point or attempt to bribe the man; the horses badly needed rest if they were to be fit to travel next day. Simon and he had been up since six that morning, and both of them were worn out.
They found stabling for the horses in the ferryman’s barn, and rolled themselves up in their furs on the floor of his living-room — in spite of its hardness they were soon asleep.
Next morning they were up early and soon away, the horses — hardy beasts — seemed as fresh as ever. All through that long monotonous day they drove onwards, halting with military regularity, but never exceeding their allotted time of rest, except once, at midday, when they made a hurried meal at a wayside farmhouse.