Jack was still undergoing his examination when Captain Kirchoff appeared in the large room in which they all were. The count immediately strode up, addressed rapidly some words to him, and then, without further parley, held him by the collar while he unmercifully lashed him with the whip. Jack, who for some time had been feeling more and more ill, took but little notice of the occurrence; and when, tired of thrashing Kirchoff, the count turned towards him his voice sounded far away. ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘come with me; I will now see that your wants are looked after.’ Jack had some dim idea of being led away, supported by gentle hands; then he grew drowsy and thought he fell asleep, when all became dark and dreamy. CHAPTER XLI. THE CHÂTEAU PAULOFF. When Jack next opened his eyes with consciousness upon the world he found he was lying on a soft bed in a sumptuously furnished apartment. The room was dimly lighted by a handsome lamp, and the cheery flickering of a large fire cast fantastic shadows upon the massive polished furniture. Jack was conscious of a curious inability to move, of a sense of languor not altogether unpleasant. He seemed to have been asleep a long time, and to have been troubled with dreams--dreams of the cholera camp at Varna, of the death-ride in the North Valley, of the struggle in the fog at Inkermann, of Linham and Will and Pearson, of his mother and sisters. Strange people seemed to flit about in his dreams: the count, a white-haired old gentleman, a stately lady, and a young girl who looked at him always with anxious eyes. The room, too, seemed familiar, though what it all meant Jack could not tell. Presently he fancied he was still lying on the cold, wet ground at Old Fort, then in the caves of Inkermann; then he ceased to think, lamplight and firelight grew dimmer and dimmer, and at last vanished altogether. Next it was broad daylight, with a wintry sun shining through the curtains, and Jack awoke to realise that he really was in bed in a strange place, and that he felt as weak as a baby. He tried to sit up and get out of bed; but, utterly unable to do so, he fell back with a deep groan. Then there sounded a rustle of garments, and a stout, kind-faced woman, dressed like a nun, wearing a crucifix on her bosom and beads round her waist, got up from a chair by the bedside, uttered kind, soothing words in a tongue Jack guessed was Russian, smoothed his pillows, and gently laid him back upon them. Then Jack remembered more--he had been taken prisoner by Cossacks. Count Pauloff had found him and taken him to the prison at Sebastopol. Well, Russian prisons were splendid places thought Jack, looking round him, and their attendants were more than kind.