Not one traveller did they encounter after quitting the main road. Only once, in a distant hollow, they caught a glimpse of the beasts and tents of some nomadic tribe, with thin blue wreaths of smoke hanging over them. But these were the only signs of humanity; they conveyed no sense of friendliness and served only to accentuate the surrounding loneliness. Twice they had changed horses and drivers at lonely little posting stations, and had obtained welcome cups of hot tea and such coarse eatables as the places afforded. But the tea atoned for all shortcomings, and, apart from other matters, they were all in hopeful spirits at the success which had attended their risky adventure so far. Palma indeed kept a cautious eye on the rear whenever they topped a point of vantage. And Blok and Rimof, bumping merrily along in the teléga some distance behind the tarantas, had their faces turned hopefully over their shoulders most of the time. While the stout little horses scrambled painfully up the rocky ways, the travellers in the tarantas talked quietly at times of the past, and more briefly of the future. Serge told them shortly of his first escape and recapture, and of his final escape after another change of names at Tomsk. He congratulated himself and them on the forethought which had long since led his father to deposit a certain portion of his fortune in the hands of his old friend, Charles Gerrardius, the great Geneva banker; just as he himself had made provision for Hope by banking money in her name with Rothschilds' in London. It was thanks to this that his way had been comparatively easy when once he got clear of Russian territory, and what a poor man could only have dreamt of doing, a rich man had been able to accomplish--thus far at all events. As to the future, they spoke but little. It was in the balances and the scales might go against them. To count upon it--even to discuss it over-much--seemed to savour of presumption, and felt like a tempting of Providence. "Is there nothing we can do for Russia?" asked Hope sadly. "Nothing!" said Serge sombrely. "Until the ground is cleared of its present growth, nothing! And the clearing will have to come from the bottom, I fear, since the top cares for nothing but keeping top. The reckoning day will come sometime and it will be a terrible one." "Poor Russia!" sighed Hope. "Poor Russians!" said Serge, "who sit quietly under the yoke and suffer like oxen." A shrill whistle from the rear stopped him. He sprang half out of his seat and leaned out, looking anxiously backwards. Then he called to the driver to stop, and leaped down and went to meet the teléga. "What is it?" he asked, as it drew near. "Bandits, brigands, nomads," cried Blok and Rimof eagerly, with nods and winks behind the driver's back. "About a dozen, as far as we can see, mounted and coming up smartly." "Ah! Then it looks as if you were not to be done out of your fun, boys."