way
to Siberia knew beforehand that on the Vorobeef Hills the "old general"
would pay them a visit. He did all he undertook seriously and devotedly.
He would walk down the rows of the unfortunate prisoners, stop before
each individual and ask after his needs--he never sermonized them; he
spoke kindly to them--he gave them money; he brought them all sorts of
necessaries for the journey, and gave them devotional books, choosing
those who could read, under the firm conviction that they would read to
those who could not, as they went along.

"'He scarcely ever talked about the particular crimes of any of them,
but listened if any volunteered information on that point. All the
convicts were equal for him, and he made no distinction. He spoke to all
as to brothers, and every one of them looked upon him as a father. When
he observed among the exiles some poor woman with a child, he would
always come forward and fondle the little one, and make it laugh. He
continued these acts of mercy up to his very death; and by that time all
the criminals, all over Russia and Siberia, knew him!

"'A man I knew who had been to Siberia and returned, told me that he
himself had been a witness of how the very most hardened criminals
remembered the old general, though, in point of fact, he could never,
of course, have distributed more than a few pence to each member of a
party. Their recollection of him was not sentimental or particularly
devoted. Some wretch, for instance, who had been a murderer--cutting the
throat of a dozen fellow-creatures, for instance; or stabbing six
little children for his own amusement (there have been such men!)--would
perhaps, without rhyme or reason, suddenly give a sigh and say, "I
wonder whether that old general is alive still!" Although perhaps he had
not thought of mentioning him for a dozen years before! How can one say
what seed of good may have been dropped into his soul, never to die?'

"I continued in that strain for a long while, pointing out to Bachmatoff
how impossible it is to follow up the effects of any isolated good deed
one may do, in all its influences and subtle workings upon the heart and
after-actions of others.

"'And to think that you are to be cut off from life!' remarked
Bachmatoff, in a tone of reproach, as though he would like to find
someone to pitch into on my account.

"We were leaning over the balustrade of the bridge, looking into the
Neva at this moment.

"'Do you know what ha