iers who held them, they
seized them by the hilt and point, and broke them over their owners'
heads, exclaiming, as each snapped in two, "This is the sword of a
traitor!" This ceremony over, they were stripped of their uniforms,
which were replaced by coarse grey smock-frocks, and they were then led
back to prison. The evening of the same day they set out for Siberia.

I returned to Louise, whom I found on her knees, praying and weeping.
She looked at me as I entered the room as though afraid to interrogate
me; but I relieved her anxiety by informing her that all had passed as
announced in the _Gazette_. She raised her eyes to heaven with an
expression of pious gratitude.

After a pause, "How far is it from here to Tobolsk?" she enquired.

"About eight hundred leagues."

"It is not so far as I thought," was her observation. I looked at her
for a moment in silence. I began to suspect her intentions.

"Why do you ask the question?" enquired I.

"Can you not guess?"

"But, Louise, it is impossible, at least at this moment."

"Do not be uneasy, my friend. I know my duty to my child, and my
affection for its father shall not make me forget it. I will wait."

It was not without a motive that the Count's mother and sisters had been
anxious to obtain the earliest possible intelligence of his departure
from St Petersburg. The road from that capital to Tobolsk ran through
Iroslaw, a town about sixty leagues from Moscow, and they entertained
hopes of being able to see their son and brother as he passed. Their
passports were ready, and arrangements made; and as soon as they
received from my servant the news of the departure of the prisoners,
they got into a _kubiltka_, and without saying a word to any body of
their intentions, set out for Iroslaw.

Travelling is rapid in Russia; in less than twenty-four hours they
reached their destination, and learned with delight that the prisoners
had not yet passed. As their stay at Iroslaw might have excited
suspicion, they left that town, and took up their quarters in a small
village on the road, at a solitary cottage, near which the carriages
containing the exiles were to change horses. In all such cases in
Russia, the persons in charge of criminals are forbidden to stop or to
change horses in towns, or even in villages.

After waiting two days, a servant whom the Countess had stationed upon
the road to watch for the convoy, hastened to her with the news that the
first division