I looked up upon that awful snow-covered road and shuddered. Luba and her mother had actually traversed it on foot. Because they had been marked as “dangerous” the Cossack captain had exposed them to that terrible suffering, hoping that they would thereby die before reaching Yakutsk—in which case he would, no doubt, receive a word of commendation from the Governor.
We were now fast approaching the dreaded Arctic penal settlements, of which the town of Yakutsk was the centre, distant over four thousand miles from the Russian frontier, every inch of which we had traversed by road.
Hour by hour, day by day, onward we went, with those irritating bells ever jingling in our ears. Petrakoff slept, his head sunk wearily upon his breast, but my mind was much too agitated for sleep. I had, by good fortune, escaped the assassin who had followed me hot-foot across Asia, and now I must soon overtake the unfortunate woman from whose lips I would seek permission for Her Highness to speak.
Pakrovskoe, a mere handful of huts, came in sight one day just as the grey light faded. It was the last village before our goal—Yakutsk. We changed horses and ate some dried fish and rye bread, washed down by a cup of weak tea. Then, after half an hour’s rest, again we went forward into the grey gloom of the snow, where on our left at the edge of the plain showed the pale yellow streak of the winter afterglow.
Through that long, interminable night we toiled on and ever on in deep snowdrifts. Vasilli ever and anon uttering curses in his beard, for the horses we had obtained at Pakrovskoe were terrible screws.
At length, however, just as the first grey of dawn appeared on the horizon our driver pointed with his whip, crying excitedly:
“Yakutsk! Excellency! Yakutsk! God be thanked for a safe journey!”
At first I could see nothing, but presently, straining my eyes straight before me, I discerned at the far edge of the snow-covered plain several low towers with bulgy spires, and a long line of house roofs silhouetted against the faint horizon.
Petrakoff gazed forth sleepily, and then with a low, half-conscious grunt lapsed again into inert slumber.
But no longer could I close my eyes. I drew my furs more closely round me, and sat with eyes fixed upon my longed-for goal.